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 Bolivia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Flesh Eaters to the jazz 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
ABBA,
Robert Hood,
Crime,
Connie Case,
Lyres,
The Smoke,
The Slackers,
Ponytail,
Cluster,
Delta 5,
Babytalk,
The United States of America,
Groovy Waters,
The Neon Judgement,
Joensuu 1685,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cure,
Dawn Penn,
Index,
Dead Boys,
The Real Kids,
Pantaleimon,
Stetsasonic,
Au Pairs,
Pantytec,
One Last Wish,
The Slits,
Make Up,
FM Einheit,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sarah Menescal,
Junior Murvin,
Sight & Sound,
Nico,
the Slits,
The Leaves,
David Axelrod,
The Toasters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lungfish,
Soul II Soul,
The Last Poets,
The Trojans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Glenn Branca,
U.S. Maple,
Aural Exciters,
Second Layer,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joy Division,
The Kinks,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Byrd,
X-101,
Alton Ellis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Names,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.