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 Tonga 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Raincoats to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
The Litter,
Jerry's Kids,
Zapp,
Sonic Youth,
Babytalk,
Ten City,
ABBA,
The Gories,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DNA,
Wolf Eyes,
X-101,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Masters at Work,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fugs,
Cheater Slicks,
The Smoke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dave Gahan,
Blossom Toes,
Albert Ayler,
Unwound,
John Lydon,
E-Dancer,
Flipper,
Sun City Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kerrie Biddell,
Von Mondo,
Roxy Music,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ponytail,
Marvin Gaye,
Crispian St. Peters,
ABC,
The Modern Lovers,
Barrington Levy,
Monolake,
Hashim,
The Detroit Cobras,
Electric Prunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Pagans,
The Busters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Glenn Branca,
La Düsseldorf,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Duran Duran,
Moebius,
Symarip,
Sparks,
UT,
The Gun Club,
Public Enemy,
Hoover,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.