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 Sweden and from Mexico City.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Youth Brigade to the electroclash 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Talk Talk,
Quantec,
John Cale,
Man Eating Sloth,
Model 500,
Los Fastidios,
Tubeway Army,
Donny Hathaway,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers,
Roger Hodgson,
Hoover,
Wings,
Symarip,
The Toasters,
Reuben Wilson,
Essential Logic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radio Birdman,
Max Romeo,
Vainqueur,
R.M.O.,
Freddie Wadling,
The Flesh Eaters,
Groovy Waters,
Sister Nancy,
Archie Shepp,
Joyce Sims,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rod Modell,
F. McDonald,
Eli Mardock,
Kool Moe Dee,
Panda Bear,
Infiniti,
Arab on Radar,
The Black Dice,
Circle Jerks,
PIL,
Patti Smith,
Liliput,
Drexciya,
Sällskapet,
Sparks,
KRS-One,
The Moleskins,
The Moody Blues,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
T. Rex,
Brand Nubian,
Johnny Clarke,
The Misunderstood,
Inner City,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nik Kershaw,
Rakim,
Altered Images,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.