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 East Timor and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Angels of Light to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slick Rick,
Unwound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra,
Scrapy,
Sixth Finger,
The Buckinghams,
Alton Ellis,
Zapp,
Sällskapet,
Iggy Pop,
Flamin' Groovies,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Josef K,
Lower 48,
Make Up,
The Alarm Clocks,
Subhumans,
The Selecter,
The Seeds,
Arthur Verocai,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bill Near,
Grauzone,
Popol Vuh,
Faraquet,
Agitation Free,
Brass Construction,
Ultimate Spinach,
K-Klass,
The Mojo Men,
Freddie Wadling,
Wire,
Marmalade,
LL Cool J,
Rufus Thomas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Curtis Mayfield,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cure,
DJ Sneak,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roger Hodgson,
Lungfish,
Talk Talk,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pet Shop Boys,
Can,
The J.B.'s,
The Dave Clark Five,
Country Teasers,
Pantytec,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.