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 Benin and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Average White Band 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Porter Ricks,
Monks,
Black Pus,
FM Einheit,
the Normal,
Echospace,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Bananas,
The Dave Clark Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joe Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Zapp,
Malaria!,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Sherman,
E-Dancer,
Dawn Penn,
Scientists,
Clear Light,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
Kerrie Biddell,
Glenn Branca,
John Foxx,
Organ,
Mr. Review,
The Golliwogs,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Seeds,
Boz Scaggs,
The Standells,
Fluxion,
cv313,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Alton Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
Nils Olav,
Stetsasonic,
Tom Boy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Moleskins,
Q65,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Durutti Column,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nick Fraelich,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
The Alarm Clocks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Animal Collective,
the Association,
Spoonie Gee,
Marc Almond,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Names,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.