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 Vietnam and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Minor Threat to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dead C,
Robert Hood,
Hot Snakes,
Rufus Thomas,
Brand Nubian,
Camouflage,
Nik Kershaw,
Pussy Galore,
Spandau Ballet,
Q and Not U,
Swell Maps,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lebanon Hanover,
New Age Steppers,
Maleditus Sound,
Barrington Levy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
Moby Grape,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scrapy,
Wally Richardson,
Organ,
Deakin,
K-Klass,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stiv Bators,
a-ha,
Motorama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Model 500,
Royal Trux,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Stooges,
The Real Kids,
Buzzcocks,
Subhumans,
The Index,
Brothers Johnson,
Crooked Eye,
Essential Logic,
DNA,
Stetsasonic,
Mandrill,
Severed Heads,
The Red Krayola,
Laurel Aitken,
cv313,
KRS-One,
Tim Buckley,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cecil Taylor,
Ronan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sound,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.