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 United States and from Halifax.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bizarre Inc. to the dance 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Zapp,
Half Japanese,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
World's Most,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Hill,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Flag,
Kerrie Biddell,
KRS-One,
The Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
Y Pants,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Slave,
John Cale,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marshall Jefferson,
Henry Cow,
Television,
Youth Brigade,
Roxy Music,
Saccharine Trust,
Charles Mingus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Spandau Ballet,
Bronski Beat,
Mars,
Nirvana,
Deadbeat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pylon,
Desert Stars,
The Wake,
Shoche,
Gang Gang Dance,
Intrusion,
Pierre Henry,
Second Layer,
Public Enemy,
Matthew Bourne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Wyatt,
Kaleidoscope,
Donald Byrd,
Ponytail,
Pantaleimon,
The Velvet Underground,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric Copeland,
D'Angelo,
Aswad,
Ultimate Spinach,
FM Einheit,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fugs,
The Vogues,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.