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 Barbados and from Seoul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin 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 Nas to the rock 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fall,
Desert Stars,
DNA,
U.S. Maple,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bill Wells,
Section 25,
Jacob Miller,
The Move,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dawn Penn,
Sun City Girls,
Ohio Players,
Harpers Bizarre,
World's Most,
Sixth Finger,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Litter,
Siglo XX,
The Smoke,
Soft Cell,
Accadde A,
The Monks,
Minutemen,
Mars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DJ Style,
Grey Daturas,
Absolute Body Control,
Joey Negro,
Model 500,
The Kinks,
The Moleskins,
Bush Tetras,
The Gap Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Isaac Hayes,
AZ,
Von Mondo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Essential Logic,
Smog,
The Selecter,
JFA,
Crime,
The Names,
The Music Machine,
Robert Görl,
Crispian St. Peters,
Monks,
New York Dolls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pere Ubu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pole,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dead C,
Aloha Tigers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.