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 Nicaragua and from Sao Paulo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Tubeway Army to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick May,
Das Ding,
Metal Thangz,
Buzzcocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Flash Fearless,
Rites of Spring,
The Blackbyrds,
Mr. Review,
Cecil Taylor,
the Normal,
The Moleskins,
The Angels of Light,
Mandrill,
Niagra,
Isaac Hayes,
Supertramp,
Royal Trux,
Leonard Cohen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flipper,
Eric Dolphy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Malaria!,
Erasure,
Black Sheep,
Tom Boy,
Tears for Fears,
Surgeon,
Audionom,
The Divine Comedy,
The Wake,
John Lydon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lungfish,
Groovy Waters,
The Vogues,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeff Mills,
The Remains,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The American Breed,
The Mummies,
Lou Christie,
Dead Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxette,
Black Pus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joy Division,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ludus,
The Dead C,
New Order,
Gang Gang Dance,
The New Christs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.