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 Uruguay and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Stooges to the jazz 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Brand Nubian,
Man Eating Sloth,
Zapp,
Dead Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
Jacob Miller,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minnie Riperton,
Ohio Players,
The Cowsills,
The Tremeloes,
Yellowson,
Jeff Lynne,
Niagra,
Black Bananas,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roger Hodgson,
Metal Thangz,
Jimmy McGriff,
E-Dancer,
Toni Rubio,
Buzzcocks,
Susan Cadogan,
Unwound,
MDC,
Henry Cow,
Juan Atkins,
Q and Not U,
Wings,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marine Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
Derrick May,
The Mummies,
Minutemen,
F. McDonald,
The Wake,
OOIOO,
The Last Poets,
Ten City,
Pulsallama,
New York Dolls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxette,
10cc,
Maleditus Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Boredoms,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Yazoo,
Porter Ricks,
Ken Boothe,
The Walker Brothers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Toasters,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.