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 Afghanistan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Royal Trux to the disco 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gap Band,
Hasil Adkins,
The Slits,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mo-Dettes,
E-Dancer,
Anakelly,
Procol Harum,
Fatback Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Stetsasonic,
Alphaville,
Infiniti,
Brass Construction,
Scientists,
Supertramp,
The Dead C,
The Flesh Eaters,
Henry Cow,
Gong,
The Fortunes,
Cal Tjader,
Royal Trux,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed,
Lee Hazlewood,
Byron Stingily,
John Lydon,
Maurizio,
Nas,
Jeff Mills,
T.S.O.L.,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pussy Galore,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Sherman,
Von Mondo,
Ultra Naté,
The Trojans,
Blossom Toes,
F. McDonald,
Rapeman,
Skriet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Todd Rundgren,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Young Marble Giants,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cluster,
Surgeon,
Prince Buster,
June of 44,
Kayak,
The Slackers,
Mantronix,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.