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 Switzerland and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minnie Riperton,
ABBA,
Porter Ricks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Vainqueur,
The Doors,
The American Breed,
Swell Maps,
Henry Cow,
Don Cherry,
Newcleus,
Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
Mandrill,
Rod Modell,
Marmalade,
Mission of Burma,
Sonic Youth,
Joyce Sims,
Robert Görl,
Inner City,
Nick Fraelich,
Fela Kuti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Smooth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Little Man,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cecil Taylor,
Morten Harket,
AZ,
Excepter,
Derrick May,
Delta 5,
Scientists,
The Smoke,
David McCallum,
The Buckinghams,
Theoretical Girls,
Outsiders,
Wire,
Nik Kershaw,
Leonard Cohen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Goldenarms,
Agent Orange,
This Heat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Danielle Patucci,
Rufus Thomas,
June Days,
Black Moon,
David Bowie,
Slick Rick,
the Association,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.