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 Turkmenistan and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Theoretical Girls to the techno 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Black Sheep,
The Black Dice,
Pylon,
Aswad,
Main Source,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare,
Organ,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Brothers Johnson,
The Trojans,
Yazoo,
Sandy B,
Buzzcocks,
Monolake,
World's Most,
Sun City Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Reed,
Monks,
June Days,
Delta 5,
The Saints,
LL Cool J,
The Happenings,
Gong,
Qualms,
The Smiths,
Erykah Badu,
Todd Terry,
Scratch Acid,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Invisible,
The Fall,
John Holt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ludus,
The Moleskins,
Shoche,
Tubeway Army,
Radio Birdman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Golliwogs,
Ossler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pussy Galore,
Outsiders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Birthday Party,
Spandau Ballet,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Music Machine,
Second Layer,
The Last Poets,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Steve Hackett,
Ultra Naté,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.