Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Cyprus and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing the Bar-Kays to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Con Funk Shun,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Goldenarms,
Slave,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Techniques,
Little Man,
The Cramps,
Vainqueur,
Peter & Gordon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Velvet Underground,
Thompson Twins,
Franke,
The Toasters,
Yusef Lateef,
Vladislav Delay,
Gong,
The Remains,
Parry Music,
John Holt,
Glambeats Corp.,
Peter and Kerry,
Radiopuhelimet,
Magazine,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Hood,
Amazonics,
Harry Pussy,
John Foxx,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The New Christs,
Ponytail,
Drexciya,
Maurizio,
Danielle Patucci,
Blancmange,
Charles Mingus,
Judy Mowatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
The Litter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Royal Trux,
The Stooges,
Unwound,
Simply Red,
The Last Poets,
Delon & Dalcan,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Warsaw,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Count Five,
Glenn Branca,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.