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 Antigua and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Can to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bad Manners,
X-Ray Spex,
the Soft Cell,
Fugazi,
Sonny Sharrock,
Organ,
Arthur Verocai,
Shoche,
The Blues Magoos,
Rod Modell,
Sex Pistols,
Michelle Simonal,
Albert Ayler,
Alice Coltrane,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mark Hollis,
JFA,
Chris Corsano,
Slick Rick,
Excepter,
Qualms,
Joe Finger,
Godley & Creme,
John Lydon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DJ Style,
Rapeman,
Cecil Taylor,
Scratch Acid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joyce Sims,
48th St. Collective,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Womack,
Blake Baxter,
Bill Near,
New Age Steppers,
B.T. Express,
Slave,
China Crisis,
Davy DMX,
Wolf Eyes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalann,
Tom Boy,
Deadbeat,
Can,
Dennis Brown,
The Modern Lovers,
Arcadia,
The Wake,
E-Dancer,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ronnie Foster,
Pylon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stiv Bators,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.