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 Mozambique and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Organ to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Blancmange,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare,
Wally Richardson,
Pagans,
Connie Case,
Yellowson,
Gabor Szabo,
Chris & Cosey,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Shoche,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Names,
Bluetip,
Rosa Yemen,
Lyres,
Sexual Harrassment,
Make Up,
Neu!,
Radiopuhelimet,
F. McDonald,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nik Kershaw,
Camouflage,
The Monochrome Set,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sight & Sound,
Flipper,
EPMD,
The Monks,
Minor Threat,
Average White Band,
Metal Thangz,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minny Pops,
The Dirtbombs,
The Associates,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Searchers,
The Count Five,
Funkadelic,
Motorama,
Fat Boys,
Pantytec,
The Real Kids,
Duran Duran,
Intrusion,
Rites of Spring,
the Normal,
Au Pairs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Max Romeo,
Lou Christie,
Kurtis Blow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Idris Muhammad,
DJ Style,
Scion,
Joyce Sims,
Tomorrow,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.