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 Bulgaria and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Skaos to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Black Sheep,
The Black Dice,
The Mojo Men,
Magma,
Max Romeo,
The Leaves,
Arthur Verocai,
Infiniti,
The Doobie Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
Josef K,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slackers,
Moebius,
U.S. Maple,
Lakeside,
Bluetip,
New Order,
Eden Ahbez,
The Toasters,
Black Bananas,
B.T. Express,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Severed Heads,
The Last Poets,
MDC,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blake Baxter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Deepchord,
CMW,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Associates,
Scratch Acid,
La Düsseldorf,
Tubeway Army,
Simply Red,
Donald Byrd,
Mantronix,
Pharoah Sanders,
Liliput,
The Fugs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Slits,
Roy Ayers,
Interpol,
Bob Dylan,
Fela Kuti,
Howard Jones,
The Neon Judgement,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Peter and Kerry,
Visage,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The American Breed,
Joey Negro,
Excepter,
Oblivians,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.