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 Haiti and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ralphi Rosario to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Patti Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Black Sheep,
Cameo,
Metal Thangz,
Hot Snakes,
Suicide,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Freddie Wadling,
Monks,
Fat Boys,
Joyce Sims,
The Blackbyrds,
Depeche Mode,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jawbox,
The Busters,
The Doors,
Ken Boothe,
Q and Not U,
Matthew Halsall,
James White and The Blacks,
DJ Sneak,
Joe Smooth,
Shoche,
Von Mondo,
T. Rex,
Todd Rundgren,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sällskapet,
Kayak,
Dorothy Ashby,
Silicon Teens,
Sandy B,
Ronan,
Lower 48,
Janne Schatter,
The Residents,
Agitation Free,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fire Engines,
Second Layer,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arab on Radar,
Liliput,
Eric B and Rakim,
Darondo,
Letta Mbulu,
Los Fastidios,
B.T. Express,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camberwell Now,
Boredoms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Robert Wyatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Supertramp,
Robert Görl,
Tres Demented,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.