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 Haiti 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
The Pretty Things,
Andrew Hill,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Görl,
Interpol,
Unrelated Segments,
Kevin Saunderson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pagans,
The Kinks,
Chris & Cosey,
Ossler,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Erasure,
Stereo Dub,
X-102,
Dennis Brown,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dead C,
Mantronix,
Unwound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aaron Thompson,
Reagan Youth,
PIL,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Infiniti,
Thee Headcoats,
Sun City Girls,
Minutemen,
Bobby Byrd,
Moebius,
Sarah Menescal,
The American Breed,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stetsasonic,
Deakin,
Dead Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Max Romeo,
Henry Cow,
Dark Day,
Electric Prunes,
The Fortunes,
Fat Boys,
Excepter,
John Foxx,
Gang Gang Dance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Happenings,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lalo Schifrin,
Shoche,
Lindisfarne,
Hashim,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.