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 Solomon Islands and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rap 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Litter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
Connie Case,
Maleditus Sound,
Sarah Menescal,
Wally Richardson,
Amon Düül,
Bob Dylan,
The Electric Prunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Alphaville,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deepchord,
Schoolly D,
John Holt,
B.T. Express,
Stockholm Monsters,
X-102,
Infiniti,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Zapp,
Blossom Toes,
Buzzcocks,
Pet Shop Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Pantytec,
Von Mondo,
Babytalk,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bush Tetras,
Matthew Halsall,
Parry Music,
Scientists,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Trojans,
Graham Central Station,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vainqueur,
Eve St. Jones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mojo Men,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Massinfluence,
Marine Girls,
Rapeman,
Mission of Burma,
Das Ding,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Traffic Nightmare,
David McCallum,
Jacob Miller,
Grauzone,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dead C,
Sight & Sound,
Bill Near,
Lightning Bolt,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.