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 Venezuela and from Paris.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Residents to the techno 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
The Young Rascals,
Porter Ricks,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pussy Galore,
Tears for Fears,
Boredoms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
Piero Umiliani,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Das Ding,
Graham Central Station,
Jandek,
Bill Near,
Robert Görl,
Thompson Twins,
Soft Machine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Todd Terry,
Kerri Chandler,
Faust,
June Days,
Jawbox,
Dave Gahan,
Al Stewart,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gladiators,
Freddie Wadling,
Suburban Knight,
Fatback Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Magma,
Livin' Joy,
The Monks,
Flash Fearless,
LL Cool J,
Joy Division,
Gang Gang Dance,
Animal Collective,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ponytail,
Joe Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Michelle Simonal,
Peter & Gordon,
Mission of Burma,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barry Ungar,
X-Ray Spex,
Barrington Levy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Heaven 17,
Warren Ellis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.