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 Nepal and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Lee Hazlewood to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Radiopuhelimet,
Man Parrish,
Mars,
Public Enemy,
Sarah Menescal,
Lungfish,
Zero Boys,
The Star Department,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra,
Oblivians,
Sonic Youth,
Funkadelic,
Heaven 17,
Joyce Sims,
The Knickerbockers,
Joy Division,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
Royal Trux,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Byrd,
Mr. Review,
Fatback Band,
the Association,
Gang Starr,
Pole,
The Litter,
Deepchord,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
Second Layer,
Suicide,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Angry Samoans,
The Divine Comedy,
Mantronix,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
Jandek,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxette,
Underground Resistance,
Dennis Brown,
The Skatalites,
Tears for Fears,
Wally Richardson,
Half Japanese,
The Music Machine,
Interpol,
Arcadia,
a-ha,
Johnny Clarke,
Tomorrow,
John Cale,
T. Rex,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Brick,
Susan Cadogan,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.