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 Italy and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 Byron Stingily to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Cecil Taylor,
Television Personalities,
Talk Talk,
The Standells,
Los Fastidios,
Godley & Creme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Absolute Body Control,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dual Sessions,
cv313,
KRS-One,
Au Pairs,
The Star Department,
James White and The Blacks,
Tim Buckley,
Loose Ends,
In Retrospect,
Surgeon,
Thompson Twins,
David Bowie,
David McCallum,
Terrestrial Tones,
Model 500,
Liliput,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Human League,
Gang Green,
Camouflage,
K-Klass,
Tears for Fears,
X-Ray Spex,
Fad Gadget,
Lyres,
ABC,
The Five Americans,
The Dirtbombs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash,
U.S. Maple,
Nation of Ulysses,
Television,
Dennis Brown,
Buzzcocks,
Angry Samoans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-102,
Cheater Slicks,
Average White Band,
Sam Rivers,
Jandek,
David Axelrod,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.