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 Sudan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 rhodes 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 Tom Boy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Warren Ellis,
The Names,
Joy Division,
Blancmange,
Q65,
Michelle Simonal,
Eddi Front,
The Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
Heaven 17,
The American Breed,
The Motions,
The Black Dice,
Bauhaus,
A Certain Ratio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Evens,
ABC,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Mummies,
Tubeway Army,
Todd Rundgren,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Moon,
The Victims,
The Electric Prunes,
Whodini,
Scientists,
Smog,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Doors,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cowsills,
The Sound,
Erasure,
Altered Images,
Easy Going,
Amon Düül,
Eric Copeland,
Bill Near,
Rapeman,
Radiohead,
Sarah Menescal,
Albert Ayler,
Banda Bassotti,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Lynne,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacques Brel,
Fluxion,
Ludus,
Monolake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jerry's Kids,
Accadde A,
Josef K,
X-Ray Spex,
Barbara Tucker,
Model 500,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.