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 Malawi and from Accra.
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 Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Stetsasonic to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Faust,
PIL,
Joyce Sims,
Hasil Adkins,
Gichy Dan,
MC5,
Electric Light Orchestra,
UT,
Mandrill,
The Names,
Black Pus,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slits,
kango's stein massive,
Man Parrish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Thee Headcoats,
Ituana,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cowsills,
Erykah Badu,
Brothers Johnson,
Arthur Verocai,
Circle Jerks,
H. Thieme,
Babytalk,
Roxette,
Von Mondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Juan Atkins,
Steve Hackett,
Byron Stingily,
Section 25,
Gang Green,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Lydon,
The Blackbyrds,
The Motions,
The Birthday Party,
Joey Negro,
Cymande,
Gang Starr,
Eli Mardock,
Popol Vuh,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brass Construction,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cure,
Glenn Branca,
Brand Nubian,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mojo Men,
Main Source,
Deadbeat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rod Modell,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.