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 Cameroon and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Banda Bassotti to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
The Smoke,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Oblivians,
Silicon Teens,
Magma,
Talk Talk,
Robert Wyatt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pierre Henry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cecil Taylor,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Dead C,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang of Four,
Flash Fearless,
World's Most,
X-Ray Spex,
Brand Nubian,
the Swans,
D'Angelo,
New York Dolls,
The Associates,
The Doors,
Sonny Sharrock,
Little Man,
Stiv Bators,
The Dirtbombs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crime,
Brothers Johnson,
The Selecter,
Livin' Joy,
Television Personalities,
The Happenings,
Cybotron,
T.S.O.L.,
Harpers Bizarre,
Subhumans,
The Black Dice,
Joensuu 1685,
The Blues Magoos,
Rakim,
UT,
John Cale,
Cheater Slicks,
Todd Rundgren,
Bang On A Can,
Supertramp,
Ossler,
Todd Terry,
Spoonie Gee,
the Association,
Jacques Brel,
Main Source,
The Knickerbockers,
The Move,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.