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 Equatorial Guinea and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum 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 Blancmange to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Average White Band,
Index,
Amon Düül II,
Josef K,
Chris Corsano,
Marine Girls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Robert Görl,
Skaos,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Wyatt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minor Threat,
cv313,
the Germs,
Scientists,
Kas Product,
Alice Coltrane,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Pus,
Stetsasonic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Youth Brigade,
The Gladiators,
Moss Icon,
Rakim,
Henry Cow,
Sun Ra,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jawbox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric Dolphy,
Johnny Clarke,
B.T. Express,
Lucky Dragons,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick May,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Womack,
Crooked Eye,
The Tremeloes,
Roxy Music,
Khruangbin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Minutemen,
Crime,
Deepchord,
Fad Gadget,
Aaron Thompson,
Funky Four + One,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doors,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sister Nancy,
The Busters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Matthew Bourne,
The Leaves,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.