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 Finland and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marine Girls to the punk 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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Görl,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Arab on Radar,
Carl Craig,
Outsiders,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nico,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minny Pops,
Das Ding,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sandy B,
Grey Daturas,
Kurtis Blow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bob Dylan,
Section 25,
Lightning Bolt,
Sex Pistols,
Intrusion,
Ronan,
The Slits,
Kerri Chandler,
Tears for Fears,
The Residents,
The Stooges,
The Skatalites,
Minnie Riperton,
New Age Steppers,
Magazine,
Moss Icon,
Clear Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
David Bowie,
Sight & Sound,
UT,
The Fire Engines,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Flipper,
Ludus,
The Tremeloes,
the Association,
Johnny Clarke,
Marmalade,
Black Pus,
The Offenders,
AZ,
The Young Rascals,
Fat Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Talk Talk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Icehouse,
Niagra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Dead C,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.