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 San Marino and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sex Pistols to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Derrick May,
Ossler,
The Moody Blues,
Crispy Ambulance,
Godley & Creme,
Brick,
Dark Day,
Brass Construction,
the Slits,
Cheater Slicks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Moon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Liliput,
Sound Behaviour,
Little Man,
Pierre Henry,
Negative Approach,
Shuggie Otis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Victims,
Skriet,
Pantytec,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Urselle,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marmalade,
The Dead C,
R.M.O.,
The Dirtbombs,
Erasure,
The Gap Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Techniques,
Lyres,
Alton Ellis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Smiths,
The Leaves,
Donald Byrd,
Kerri Chandler,
Boredoms,
The Smoke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sonics,
Gong,
Icehouse,
E-Dancer,
Popol Vuh,
Ituana,
T. Rex,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Delon & Dalcan,
Slave,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.