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 Zimbabwe and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord 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 Blake Baxter to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Red Krayola,
Unwound,
Man Parrish,
Minny Pops,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Green,
Henry Cow,
Rotary Connection,
Lungfish,
The Moody Blues,
Tubeway Army,
The Divine Comedy,
Groovy Waters,
The Dirtbombs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ohio Players,
Wasted Youth,
Flipper,
Spoonie Gee,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
UT,
Visage,
Lou Christie,
Masters at Work,
Scientists,
Chris Corsano,
Josef K,
Goldenarms,
The Victims,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Sherman,
Wally Richardson,
Letta Mbulu,
the Normal,
Lou Reed,
Terrestrial Tones,
LL Cool J,
Boogie Down Productions,
Glambeats Corp.,
Television Personalities,
Fad Gadget,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultravox,
FM Einheit,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Womack,
Monks,
the Slits,
Roy Ayers,
Suicide,
Bauhaus,
D'Angelo,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Moon,
Funkadelic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alice Coltrane,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.