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 Australia and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Visage to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Technova,
Quando Quango,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Misunderstood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Anakelly,
Neil Young,
The Music Machine,
Marc Almond,
The Trojans,
Susan Cadogan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Das Ding,
New Order,
Peter and Kerry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
B.T. Express,
Fluxion,
Bush Tetras,
The Black Dice,
Hoover,
Monks,
Harmonia,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Remains,
The Residents,
Eden Ahbez,
Erykah Badu,
Gang of Four,
Japan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Patti Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Alison Limerick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Moon,
Audionom,
Roy Ayers,
X-Ray Spex,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sparks,
Connie Case,
Circle Jerks,
The Motions,
Lyres,
Slave,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Soft Cell,
Man Parrish,
Khruangbin,
The Fugs,
Theoretical Girls,
The Saints,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
FM Einheit,
Iggy Pop,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.