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 Saudi Arabia and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Magazine to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Harry Pussy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Groovy Waters,
This Heat,
Godley & Creme,
New Order,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gories,
Alice Coltrane,
Spandau Ballet,
Erykah Badu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Germs,
The Buckinghams,
Rekid,
Rotary Connection,
Moss Icon,
Make Up,
Fear,
Black Moon,
Lungfish,
Thompson Twins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Gang Dance,
New York Dolls,
Marc Almond,
Byron Stingily,
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scrapy,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
June Days,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Move,
the Slits,
The American Breed,
Faust,
B.T. Express,
Agent Orange,
Alton Ellis,
Bluetip,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wolf Eyes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fat Boys,
Howard Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sun City Girls,
Alphaville,
Supertramp,
DJ Style,
Banda Bassotti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Coltrane,
The Real Kids,
Royal Trux,
Blancmange,
The Happenings,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.