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 Slovenia and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 One Last Wish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Harry Pussy,
Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cybotron,
Altered Images,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Arab on Radar,
Letta Mbulu,
Iggy Pop,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Raincoats,
The Slackers,
James White and The Blacks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Interpol,
Franke,
The Remains,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kayak,
Technova,
Stereo Dub,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Byrd,
ABC,
Henry Cow,
the Soft Cell,
Joe Finger,
John Foxx,
The Red Krayola,
The Slits,
Archie Shepp,
David Axelrod,
Ten City,
The Vogues,
ABBA,
Minny Pops,
Sällskapet,
Porter Ricks,
Bronski Beat,
Peter & Gordon,
The Neon Judgement,
Panda Bear,
Infiniti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nirvana,
Roxette,
Public Enemy,
Sun City Girls,
Eurythmics,
Wally Richardson,
a-ha,
The Smiths,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Evens,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bill Wells,
Inner City,
The Stooges,
Nas,
Slave,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.