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 Kiribati and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Colin Newman to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Oblivians,
The Moleskins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Accadde A,
Yazoo,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Beau Brummels,
Mad Mike,
A Certain Ratio,
World's Most,
Buzzcocks,
Chris & Cosey,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brand Nubian,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Heaven 17,
the Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pole,
Ice-T,
Davy DMX,
the Association,
Moss Icon,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Human League,
Connie Case,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ituana,
Banda Bassotti,
Massinfluence,
DNA,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Cale,
Scratch Acid,
The Birthday Party,
The Vogues,
New York Dolls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Residents,
Lou Reed,
KRS-One,
Zapp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Procol Harum,
Whodini,
The Neon Judgement,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flash Fearless,
The Misunderstood,
Janne Schatter,
The Star Department,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Suburban Knight,
Bronski Beat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marine Girls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Underground Resistance,
The Evens,
Camouflage,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.