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 Austria and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 United States of America to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Fear,
Chrome,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scott Walker,
Reagan Youth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Johnny Clarke,
Reuben Wilson,
Icehouse,
The United States of America,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mo-Dettes,
DNA,
Mars,
Pantytec,
Tommy Roe,
Harmonia,
Rapeman,
The Dead C,
Dead Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Zeros,
The Slits,
Ludus,
The Beau Brummels,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mission of Burma,
The Fortunes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jimmy McGriff,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ronnie Foster,
Public Enemy,
Subhumans,
The Selecter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lyres,
Roxy Music,
Tomorrow,
The Seeds,
The Mummies,
Joey Negro,
The Blues Magoos,
Massinfluence,
Radiohead,
Quantec,
Simply Red,
Newcleus,
Half Japanese,
Archie Shepp,
The J.B.'s,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Lydon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Index,
Surgeon,
Malaria!,
Mr. Review,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.