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 Morocco and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the punk 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Blake Baxter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Last Poets,
Stiv Bators,
China Crisis,
Niagra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Warren Ellis,
The Moody Blues,
Soulsonic Force,
Eve St. Jones,
The Smiths,
Spandau Ballet,
Ludus,
EPMD,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eli Mardock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Faraquet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Mad Mike,
the Sonics,
Country Teasers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pagans,
The Birthday Party,
Parry Music,
Marc Almond,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Faust,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ronnie Foster,
The Associates,
The Zeros,
the Human League,
Kerri Chandler,
Hoover,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Moon,
Lyres,
DNA,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Funkadelic,
Bob Dylan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Minnie Riperton,
Bad Manners,
Glenn Branca,
Sonic Youth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.