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 El Salvador and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Flesh Eaters 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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
The Busters,
Silicon Teens,
Television,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gun Club,
Ice-T,
Mandrill,
Second Layer,
The Mummies,
Eddi Front,
Robert Wyatt,
10cc,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barbara Tucker,
Circle Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Banda Bassotti,
The Move,
Scan 7,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jerry's Kids,
Drexciya,
Cymande,
Severed Heads,
Depeche Mode,
Barrington Levy,
Model 500,
Aswad,
Grey Daturas,
E-Dancer,
Organ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skarface,
Los Fastidios,
Camouflage,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moody Blues,
Altered Images,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dave Gahan,
The Techniques,
James White and The Blacks,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fuzztones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jawbox,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pulsallama,
X-101,
Glenn Branca,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minor Threat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric Dolphy,
Cal Tjader,
Marine Girls,
Janne Schatter,
48th St. Collective,
The Smoke,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.