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 Kyrgyzstan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Busters to the dance 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Swans,
Dark Day,
Lou Reed,
Joy Division,
Siglo XX,
Depeche Mode,
Ludus,
Zero Boys,
Accadde A,
Godley & Creme,
Minutemen,
Rakim,
Barrington Levy,
DJ Sneak,
Moby Grape,
Tropical Tobacco,
Letta Mbulu,
Second Layer,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Shadows of Knight,
World's Most,
The Fugs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sixth Finger,
Intrusion,
Amazonics,
Interpol,
Lalann,
X-102,
Metal Thangz,
The Gories,
Scan 7,
Henry Cow,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rapeman,
Sister Nancy,
Mo-Dettes,
Pussy Galore,
The Neon Judgement,
David McCallum,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lucky Dragons,
Cybotron,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Foxx,
This Heat,
Cecil Taylor,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bang On A Can,
The Selecter,
Darondo,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fire Engines,
Buzzcocks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Malaria!,
Bush Tetras,
Faraquet,
Slick Rick,
Kool Moe Dee,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.