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 Bhutan and from Philadelphia.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 dance 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Little Man,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Buckinghams,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
The Last Poets,
Suicide,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
China Crisis,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ken Boothe,
Eurythmics,
X-101,
Pole,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sparks,
Maurizio,
Scratch Acid,
Mad Mike,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Wyatt,
The Names,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Moody Blues,
Peter and Kerry,
Mantronix,
Camberwell Now,
Wasted Youth,
The Gun Club,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blake Baxter,
Bush Tetras,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Stooges,
Bronski Beat,
Gang Gang Dance,
Von Mondo,
Liliput,
Slick Rick,
The Human League,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stetsasonic,
Jeff Mills,
Funkadelic,
Tim Buckley,
Roger Hodgson,
Sugar Minott,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.