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 Costa Rica and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Holger Czukay 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 Kas Product to the rap 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ohio Players,
The Litter,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
Mission of Burma,
the Swans,
Quantec,
PIL,
Gil Scott Heron,
Public Image Ltd.,
Suicide,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Maleditus Sound,
Pierre Henry,
Eve St. Jones,
Tommy Roe,
The Saints,
L. Decosne,
Wire,
Sam Rivers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gories,
Minutemen,
Unrelated Segments,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
June of 44,
Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Carl Craig,
Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
Minnie Riperton,
Tomorrow,
Bush Tetras,
Deadbeat,
Icehouse,
Jeff Mills,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ituana,
Blossom Toes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Cale,
Althea and Donna,
Negative Approach,
The Flesh Eaters,
Los Fastidios,
Curtis Mayfield,
Procol Harum,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marc Almond,
John Lydon,
the Slits,
Gang Green,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ossler,
Marine Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.