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 Albania and from Jakarta.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Real Kids to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Yusef Lateef,
Moss Icon,
the Swans,
Average White Band,
Intrusion,
Sam Rivers,
Sparks,
Index,
Wings,
PIL,
Rosa Yemen,
Hot Snakes,
Alice Coltrane,
Erykah Badu,
Ossler,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Foxx,
Trumans Water,
The Dead C,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lalann,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Public Enemy,
World's Most,
Suburban Knight,
Swans,
Peter and Kerry,
Sight & Sound,
Marine Girls,
K-Klass,
Flipper,
The Raincoats,
Man Parrish,
Warsaw,
Bronski Beat,
Davy DMX,
Radiohead,
The Real Kids,
The Trojans,
Siglo XX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eddi Front,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Monolake,
The Durutti Column,
Ten City,
Graham Central Station,
Cluster,
Blake Baxter,
JFA,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy Collins,
Tubeway Army,
Pole,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fela Kuti,
Newcleus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deakin,
Neu!,
Au Pairs,
Drexciya,
The Fire Engines,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.