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 Indonesia and from Accra.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 T.S.O.L. to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
The Real Kids,
Roxette,
The Names,
Bauhaus,
Charles Mingus,
Maleditus Sound,
Alison Limerick,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABC,
Inner City,
Delta 5,
Johnny Clarke,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
June of 44,
Y Pants,
Peter & Gordon,
David Axelrod,
The Raincoats,
Gang Starr,
Maurizio,
Lou Reed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skriet,
Graham Central Station,
Aloha Tigers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aswad,
Lyres,
Lebanon Hanover,
Traffic Nightmare,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick Morgan,
Animal Collective,
Clear Light,
Tres Demented,
The Birthday Party,
Fat Boys,
Ice-T,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joe Finger,
The Vogues,
Max Romeo,
the Association,
Public Enemy,
Cameo,
Wire,
LL Cool J,
James White and The Blacks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wolf Eyes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hardrive,
The Smiths,
Boredoms,
Bad Manners,
Oneida,
The Techniques,
John Foxx,
The Mummies,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.