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 San Marino and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Slits to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Gong,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Electric Prunes,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis,
Harry Pussy,
Donald Byrd,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stiv Bators,
The Neon Judgement,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fuzztones,
Dawn Penn,
Aswad,
Kurtis Blow,
Saccharine Trust,
Carl Craig,
Terrestrial Tones,
Accadde A,
Motorama,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marcia Griffiths,
Babytalk,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Radiohead,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Knickerbockers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soft Cell,
Morten Harket,
Chrome,
Pulsallama,
New Order,
Inner City,
the Association,
Freddie Wadling,
Warren Ellis,
The Last Poets,
The Vogues,
Wolf Eyes,
Zapp,
Todd Rundgren,
Rufus Thomas,
Q and Not U,
Blancmange,
Mandrill,
June Days,
Can,
the Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Human League,
Cameo,
Cluster,
Robert Hood,
The Gories,
The Grass Roots,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flipper,
Cal Tjader,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.