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 Iceland and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fire Engines to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
These Immortal Souls,
Depeche Mode,
Chris & Cosey,
The Barracudas,
The Dead C,
Patti Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
LL Cool J,
Mad Mike,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Litter,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
One Last Wish,
Technova,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Sherman,
The Velvet Underground,
Man Eating Sloth,
In Retrospect,
Ultra Naté,
Ultravox,
Rufus Thomas,
The Index,
Deakin,
Chrome,
Blancmange,
The Electric Prunes,
JFA,
Arcadia,
Slave,
Duran Duran,
Sonny Sharrock,
T.S.O.L.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roxy Music,
Deepchord,
Hashim,
D'Angelo,
Charles Mingus,
Accadde A,
David McCallum,
Masters at Work,
Todd Terry,
The Pop Group,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scion,
Popol Vuh,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fugazi,
Ken Boothe,
Severed Heads,
Ten City,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cramps,
Kaleidoscope,
Harpers Bizarre,
Leonard Cohen,
The Beau Brummels,
Cal Tjader,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.