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 Switzerland and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord 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 Peter & Gordon to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
the Bar-Kays,
Fugazi,
Brand Nubian,
Oneida,
Au Pairs,
Adolescents,
DNA,
David Axelrod,
Man Parrish,
Index,
Jacob Miller,
The Move,
Tomorrow,
cv313,
R.M.O.,
Clear Light,
Boredoms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thompson Twins,
Absolute Body Control,
Boz Scaggs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sonics,
La Düsseldorf,
The Techniques,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arcadia,
Funky Four + One,
The Gap Band,
Faust,
The Barracudas,
Popol Vuh,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cure,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sex Pistols,
Tres Demented,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The United States of America,
Amon Düül,
Dorothy Ashby,
OOIOO,
Oblivians,
Brass Construction,
Buzzcocks,
Jandek,
Sarah Menescal,
Chris Corsano,
Tubeway Army,
Ornette Coleman,
Procol Harum,
Echospace,
The Flesh Eaters,
Audionom,
Big Daddy Kane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Birthday Party,
Magma,
Matthew Halsall,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.