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 Bolivia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 The Gun Club to the grunge 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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Prince Buster,
Chrome,
The Modern Lovers,
Basic Channel,
Rotary Connection,
Sonny Sharrock,
Spandau Ballet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Arab on Radar,
Scrapy,
Vladislav Delay,
Al Stewart,
Hot Snakes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Goldenarms,
Fad Gadget,
Loose Ends,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Adolescents,
The Durutti Column,
David McCallum,
The Names,
The Wake,
Severed Heads,
Terry Callier,
Bad Manners,
Das Ding,
Crash Course in Science,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Country Teasers,
ABC,
Nirvana,
Wasted Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Saccharine Trust,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
Mad Mike,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pierre Henry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Masters at Work,
DNA,
Danielle Patucci,
Fear,
Whodini,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gichy Dan,
The Sound,
MC5,
Skarface,
The Remains,
Joe Smooth,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.