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 Ivory Coast and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Symarip to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Connie Case,
Franke,
Skriet,
The Kinks,
The Wake,
The Golliwogs,
Circle Jerks,
Altered Images,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Bar-Kays,
John Foxx,
Carl Craig,
Tomorrow,
The Offenders,
Slave,
MC5,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T.S.O.L.,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ten City,
Dead Boys,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wire,
Youth Brigade,
Urselle,
Nation of Ulysses,
Maleditus Sound,
Tears for Fears,
Todd Rundgren,
The Slits,
Bauhaus,
The Fire Engines,
Radiohead,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare,
Graham Central Station,
The Dave Clark Five,
Warsaw,
June Days,
Ornette Coleman,
The United States of America,
Black Flag,
Lakeside,
Robert Wyatt,
Swans,
Iggy Pop,
Blake Baxter,
Buzzcocks,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Wells,
Joensuu 1685,
Ossler,
Black Moon,
The Red Krayola,
Cheater Slicks,
Sex Pistols,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.