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 Dominica and from Mexico City.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the funk 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Drexciya,
Heaven 17,
Bluetip,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Count Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tim Buckley,
Crash Course in Science,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Das Ding,
Spandau Ballet,
The Slackers,
Whodini,
Ohio Players,
Sun City Girls,
Interpol,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Barracudas,
La Düsseldorf,
Barry Ungar,
Agent Orange,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wings,
Tubeway Army,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moby Grape,
Marmalade,
Hoover,
The Velvet Underground,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Josef K,
Junior Murvin,
Country Teasers,
T. Rex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Christie,
Nas,
Kayak,
Pylon,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fortunes,
U.S. Maple,
Angry Samoans,
The Smiths,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Raincoats,
Duran Duran,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
B.T. Express,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Danielle Patucci,
Aswad,
Anthony Braxton,
David McCallum,
Malaria!,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.