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 Mongolia and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Stockholm Monsters 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Suburban Knight,
Q65,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nas,
The Red Krayola,
Amon Düül,
Jeff Mills,
Kevin Saunderson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amazonics,
X-102,
Graham Central Station,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Theoretical Girls,
a-ha,
U.S. Maple,
Scrapy,
The Real Kids,
The J.B.'s,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Monks,
Black Sheep,
The Cramps,
New York Dolls,
Sex Pistols,
Spandau Ballet,
La Düsseldorf,
Youth Brigade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Section 25,
The Fire Engines,
Banda Bassotti,
Los Fastidios,
The Monochrome Set,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bronski Beat,
Alison Limerick,
Joy Division,
Joey Negro,
Cal Tjader,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Thee Headcoats,
Neu!,
Henry Cow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Pop Group,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rosa Yemen,
Sixth Finger,
Kas Product,
Roy Ayers,
Lightning Bolt,
Funkadelic,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Searchers,
Pole,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.