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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 the Fania All-Stars to the disco 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Scan 7,
The Tremeloes,
The Doobie Brothers,
June of 44,
The Busters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Moody Blues,
Niagra,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nation of Ulysses,
Porter Ricks,
The Cowsills,
Wire,
Liliput,
Gang Gang Dance,
Babytalk,
Arab on Radar,
Jawbox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eve St. Jones,
Dave Gahan,
The Vogues,
Main Source,
Wolf Eyes,
Das Ding,
The Five Americans,
Pulsallama,
Grey Daturas,
F. McDonald,
Duran Duran,
Kas Product,
Sparks,
Bobby Byrd,
The Residents,
Depeche Mode,
Japan,
Barry Ungar,
T. Rex,
Chris & Cosey,
Susan Cadogan,
The Count Five,
Derrick Morgan,
Sixth Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Human League,
Marmalade,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sam Rivers,
Matthew Bourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dawn Penn,
Index,
June Days,
Stereo Dub,
Morten Harket,
Todd Terry,
Eden Ahbez,
UT,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.