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 Cuba and from Madrid.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Accadde A to the rock 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Misunderstood,
Circle Jerks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dark Day,
The Shadows of Knight,
Agent Orange,
The Evens,
Lee Hazlewood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rekid,
Fad Gadget,
KRS-One,
Pulsallama,
Wasted Youth,
Subhumans,
Jawbox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blues Magoos,
Interpol,
The Wake,
Clear Light,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Index,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scott Walker,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jeff Lynne,
AZ,
Juan Atkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joy Division,
MDC,
Qualms,
Erasure,
Essential Logic,
Crash Course in Science,
Pylon,
John Cale,
Visage,
X-101,
X-Ray Spex,
Joey Negro,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kenny Larkin,
Altered Images,
Franke,
Crooked Eye,
Stiv Bators,
Susan Cadogan,
Outsiders,
Zero Boys,
Chris & Cosey,
Sunsets and Hearts,
David Bowie,
Technova,
U.S. Maple,
This Heat,
Cameo,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.