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 Liberia and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Johnny Clarke,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Wyatt,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Durutti Column,
Lou Reed,
Danielle Patucci,
KRS-One,
Warsaw,
The Leaves,
Marine Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Christie,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lungfish,
Junior Murvin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eurythmics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Slave,
Man Eating Sloth,
Flipper,
Intrusion,
The Young Rascals,
U.S. Maple,
The Fire Engines,
Lindisfarne,
The Divine Comedy,
Lightning Bolt,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sister Nancy,
Dave Gahan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Panda Bear,
The Stooges,
Eden Ahbez,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brothers Johnson,
Das Ding,
Rosa Yemen,
Negative Approach,
Darondo,
Depeche Mode,
Dennis Brown,
Anthony Braxton,
Josef K,
Basic Channel,
kango's stein massive,
Ludus,
Oneida,
X-Ray Spex,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Toasters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Whodini,
Spoonie Gee,
Fugazi,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scan 7,
Scott Walker,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.