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 Nicaragua and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Robert Palmer 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 Depeche Mode 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Panda Bear,
Malaria!,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tears for Fears,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dead Boys,
Flash Fearless,
The Gladiators,
Eric Copeland,
Kaleidoscope,
Zero Boys,
The Victims,
Agitation Free,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Moon,
June Days,
Depeche Mode,
Drexciya,
Loose Ends,
These Immortal Souls,
Banda Bassotti,
The Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Darondo,
Terry Callier,
Sparks,
Hasil Adkins,
The Saints,
The Names,
Kayak,
Eric Dolphy,
Lungfish,
The Litter,
Arcadia,
Carl Craig,
Alice Coltrane,
kango's stein massive,
Lightning Bolt,
the Human League,
Inner City,
The Mojo Men,
FM Einheit,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nirvana,
Neu!,
Ten City,
B.T. Express,
John Cale,
Japan,
The American Breed,
Mad Mike,
cv313,
Barry Ungar,
Albert Ayler,
the Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Index,
Faust,
Rakim,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.