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 South Africa and from Hong Kong.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eric B and Rakim to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Warren Ellis,
Faraquet,
Pantytec,
Liliput,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bill Near,
Monolake,
Swell Maps,
The Motions,
The Searchers,
Alphaville,
Aaron Thompson,
Slick Rick,
Erykah Badu,
Moby Grape,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pussy Galore,
Minnie Riperton,
The Busters,
The Buckinghams,
The Dirtbombs,
DJ Style,
Nils Olav,
Joy Division,
The Selecter,
Gichy Dan,
Youth Brigade,
The Knickerbockers,
The Martian,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Names,
Interpol,
Dennis Brown,
Con Funk Shun,
Severed Heads,
Nirvana,
Niagra,
Aswad,
The Detroit Cobras,
Infiniti,
The Monks,
The Human League,
New Age Steppers,
Shuggie Otis,
The Sonics,
Surgeon,
The Raincoats,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pulsallama,
The Index,
Vainqueur,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kaleidoscope,
Swans,
Suburban Knight,
Toni Rubio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.