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 Honduras and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Michael McDonald 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 Shuggie Otis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Los Fastidios,
Yazoo,
Tim Buckley,
Bush Tetras,
One Last Wish,
World's Most,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Grass Roots,
Aloha Tigers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Little Man,
10cc,
D'Angelo,
Derrick May,
Neil Young,
The Gories,
Rufus Thomas,
The Motions,
The Fugs,
X-102,
Soul Sonic Force,
Circle Jerks,
Erasure,
Index,
Barry Ungar,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sonic Youth,
Bronski Beat,
Carl Craig,
Duran Duran,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Young Rascals,
The United States of America,
Maurizio,
The Slackers,
John Lydon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Visage,
Frankie Knuckles,
Severed Heads,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Slits,
Todd Terry,
Arab on Radar,
Bang On A Can,
The Blackbyrds,
Sun City Girls,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Sonics,
John Coltrane,
Brothers Johnson,
Marvin Gaye,
Sällskapet,
Howard Jones,
Ten City,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nick Fraelich,
Wasted Youth,
Clear Light,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.