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 Uganda and from Paris.
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 Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Interpol to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Visage,
Juan Atkins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Maurizio,
Bluetip,
EPMD,
New Age Steppers,
Organ,
Pylon,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gladiators,
DJ Sneak,
The Walker Brothers,
The Zeros,
48th St. Collective,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
World's Most,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Man Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
Marine Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Pussy Galore,
Wolf Eyes,
Surgeon,
Soulsonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Altered Images,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Simply Red,
Lyres,
John Cale,
Cybotron,
The Velvet Underground,
The Doors,
Tomorrow,
David McCallum,
Yaz,
Pagans,
Colin Newman,
Ponytail,
Bronski Beat,
The Fugs,
Dave Gahan,
Boredoms,
Robert Görl,
Fluxion,
Wasted Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Wells,
Sandy B,
Quantec,
Interpol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monks,
June Days,
Yellowson,
E-Dancer,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.