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 Dominican Republic 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Radiohead to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Barbara Tucker,
Juan Atkins,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Womack,
Chrome,
Whodini,
Loose Ends,
The Slits,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Leaves,
The Cowsills,
Black Flag,
Ice-T,
Gabor Szabo,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
Robert Wyatt,
Desert Stars,
Jacques Brel,
Scrapy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Foxx,
Basic Channel,
The Remains,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Angels of Light,
Marmalade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Erasure,
48th St. Collective,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doobie Brothers,
Maurizio,
Index,
Mandrill,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Infiniti,
Rekid,
Monks,
Brothers Johnson,
Fela Kuti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Subhumans,
Masters at Work,
ABBA,
Sugar Minott,
Bad Manners,
Alison Limerick,
Panda Bear,
Talk Talk,
The Buckinghams,
Radiopuhelimet,
Angry Samoans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Real Kids,
Malaria!,
Sun City Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Visage,
Blake Baxter,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.