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 Georgia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dead C to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
The Neon Judgement,
Minor Threat,
Camouflage,
Robert Wyatt,
Kas Product,
Lucky Dragons,
B.T. Express,
Eric Copeland,
Trumans Water,
Dead Boys,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Oblivians,
Desert Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mark Hollis,
the Association,
Little Man,
Black Flag,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The J.B.'s,
Masters at Work,
Aural Exciters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Associates,
Sparks,
The Index,
The Cowsills,
The Selecter,
Glenn Branca,
Darondo,
Morten Harket,
48th St. Collective,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gap Band,
Alphaville,
Porter Ricks,
Duran Duran,
Scratch Acid,
Theoretical Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Negative Approach,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Deepchord,
Interpol,
The Cure,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Names,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Invisible,
Wasted Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris Corsano,
The Vogues,
The Toasters,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.