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 Ghana and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Blues Magoos to the funk 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates 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?
K-Klass,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Outsiders,
Sex Pistols,
B.T. Express,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang of Four,
Japan,
Tommy Roe,
Franke,
Hoover,
Kas Product,
Cybotron,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Finger,
Radiopuhelimet,
Buzzcocks,
The Divine Comedy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slits,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Reagan Youth,
Little Man,
Malaria!,
Freddie Wadling,
Godley & Creme,
Donald Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Enemy,
Avey Tare,
Suicide,
Whodini,
Clear Light,
Delta 5,
John Foxx,
Crispian St. Peters,
Flipper,
Lakeside,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Kinks,
The Happenings,
Masters at Work,
a-ha,
Rekid,
Scientists,
Marc Almond,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Amazonics,
One Last Wish,
Inner City,
X-Ray Spex,
Alphaville,
Minnie Riperton,
Barrington Levy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fugs,
Con Funk Shun,
Nick Fraelich,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Juan Atkins,
Arab on Radar,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.