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 Argentina and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Tears for Fears to the punk 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Rufus Thomas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aaron Thompson,
Angry Samoans,
The Five Americans,
Pylon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pulsallama,
Mandrill,
Hashim,
Marshall Jefferson,
Harmonia,
Gang Green,
Henry Cow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Albert Ayler,
Sugar Minott,
Sarah Menescal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sandy B,
Delta 5,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soulsonic Force,
Pole,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
Joe Finger,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wire,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Slits,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Franke,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
FM Einheit,
The Buckinghams,
Grey Daturas,
The Happenings,
Gang Gang Dance,
Howard Jones,
Thompson Twins,
Scratch Acid,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radio Birdman,
Rapeman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Whodini,
Unwound,
Faust,
Malaria!,
Blancmange,
The Golliwogs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kool Moe Dee,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Model 500,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.