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 Guinea and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Adolescents to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
The Gladiators,
Scientists,
Royal Trux,
Monks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dave Gahan,
Darondo,
Lyres,
Gang Starr,
Surgeon,
Connie Case,
Fela Kuti,
Section 25,
Susan Cadogan,
John Foxx,
Rosa Yemen,
Skriet,
Magazine,
Spandau Ballet,
Severed Heads,
Q65,
Adolescents,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kenny Larkin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dark Day,
Malaria!,
New Order,
Audionom,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hardrive,
Peter and Kerry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Suburban Knight,
New Age Steppers,
Duran Duran,
The Detroit Cobras,
Newcleus,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Martian,
Unrelated Segments,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Slits,
Urselle,
Livin' Joy,
Ornette Coleman,
Little Man,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tom Boy,
Pierre Henry,
Tim Buckley,
Depeche Mode,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Sonics,
The Moleskins,
Nico,
The Litter,
Amon Düül,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.