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 Tonga and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 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 Letta Mbulu to the electroclash 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
John Coltrane,
Circle Jerks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Modern Lovers,
Althea and Donna,
Rites of Spring,
Sixth Finger,
Eric Copeland,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echospace,
Country Teasers,
The Gladiators,
The Human League,
Josef K,
Agitation Free,
Joe Smooth,
Iggy Pop,
Dead Boys,
Rotary Connection,
Pantytec,
Talk Talk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick May,
Albert Ayler,
Half Japanese,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ken Boothe,
Grey Daturas,
World's Most,
The New Christs,
kango's stein massive,
Visage,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dave Gahan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Trojans,
Royal Trux,
Ice-T,
The Gories,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Matthew Halsall,
David McCallum,
Liliput,
Don Cherry,
The Vogues,
Arthur Verocai,
Trumans Water,
Drexciya,
LL Cool J,
Charles Mingus,
Shoche,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.