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 Sri Lanka and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer 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 Dead Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Minor Threat,
Althea and Donna,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Underground Resistance,
The Sonics,
Isaac Hayes,
Delta 5,
Boredoms,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Moleskins,
Sparks,
Royal Trux,
Accadde A,
Black Sheep,
the Germs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Zapp,
The Red Krayola,
Cymande,
Vladislav Delay,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joe Smooth,
The Slackers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sam Rivers,
Visage,
Das Ding,
Lucky Dragons,
Agent Orange,
Derrick May,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aaron Thompson,
Sugar Minott,
Thompson Twins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
It's A Beautiful Day,
AZ,
Wings,
Blossom Toes,
Cecil Taylor,
Kayak,
Brothers Johnson,
the Bar-Kays,
Rites of Spring,
Joyce Sims,
Pere Ubu,
Brick,
Reagan Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
The Blues Magoos,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Angels of Light,
Gang of Four,
Aural Exciters,
Y Pants,
Eli Mardock,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.