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 Norway and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Piero Umiliani to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scientists,
Rites of Spring,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Misunderstood,
UT,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Golliwogs,
Outsiders,
Kerri Chandler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
48th St. Collective,
Gichy Dan,
Duran Duran,
Kaleidoscope,
Amazonics,
Yaz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Chris & Cosey,
Main Source,
Archie Shepp,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Metal Thangz,
Jawbox,
Porter Ricks,
Fugazi,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jeff Mills,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cymande,
Urselle,
Procol Harum,
The Barracudas,
Rapeman,
Rotary Connection,
Man Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
B.T. Express,
Babytalk,
Moebius,
Television,
Y Pants,
DNA,
the Swans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Organ,
Danielle Patucci,
Tom Boy,
The Count Five,
Marc Almond,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gun Club,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.