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 Marshall Islands and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare 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 Boz Scaggs to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Electric Prunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Scrapy,
Moebius,
Reagan Youth,
Oneida,
Cecil Taylor,
Pere Ubu,
Blossom Toes,
Dawn Penn,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quando Quango,
Arab on Radar,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Siglo XX,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Vladislav Delay,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Starr,
The Red Krayola,
Schoolly D,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Animal Collective,
Circle Jerks,
B.T. Express,
Crooked Eye,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Livin' Joy,
James White and The Blacks,
Kurtis Blow,
The Remains,
Interpol,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
The Martian,
The Fire Engines,
Black Flag,
Archie Shepp,
The Monks,
Tubeway Army,
John Lydon,
Brothers Johnson,
the Normal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radiohead,
UT,
Alice Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
Kenny Larkin,
Surgeon,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.