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 Senegal and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultra Naté to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Todd Rundgren,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mandrill,
The Names,
The Slits,
Lyres,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Steve Hackett,
Trumans Water,
The Move,
Amon Düül II,
Barbara Tucker,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warsaw,
Maurizio,
Subhumans,
Barry Ungar,
Sound Behaviour,
The Grass Roots,
Surgeon,
Whodini,
Alton Ellis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Skaos,
Zapp,
Nico,
Rod Modell,
The Dead C,
X-102,
Roger Hodgson,
Depeche Mode,
Eric Dolphy,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Evens,
The Blackbyrds,
H. Thieme,
Junior Murvin,
Excepter,
The Residents,
Infiniti,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fuzztones,
Camberwell Now,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marine Girls,
Fear,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
DNA,
Lakeside,
Von Mondo,
The Birthday Party,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Con Funk Shun,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sonics,
The Victims,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.