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 Ireland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Index to the rap 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lightning Bolt,
Dual Sessions,
Moby Grape,
Rod Modell,
Roxy Music,
the Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Laurel Aitken,
Mr. Review,
Dave Gahan,
Eve St. Jones,
Pere Ubu,
The Sound,
Metal Thangz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pole,
Crooked Eye,
Glambeats Corp.,
T. Rex,
the Normal,
Brand Nubian,
The Happenings,
Amon Düül II,
The American Breed,
Livin' Joy,
The Stooges,
Scratch Acid,
Supertramp,
Cecil Taylor,
Scan 7,
Bronski Beat,
Rakim,
The Gladiators,
ABBA,
Sun City Girls,
John Foxx,
The Leaves,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New Age Steppers,
Albert Ayler,
the Germs,
John Cale,
Al Stewart,
Eurythmics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang of Four,
Surgeon,
Henry Cow,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chris Corsano,
Byron Stingily,
Excepter,
Main Source,
Fugazi,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Graham Central Station,
The Techniques,
Malaria!,
Minny Pops,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.