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 Kosovo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Outsiders to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Excepter,
The Vogues,
Subhumans,
a-ha,
Khruangbin,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Laurel Aitken,
The Busters,
The Gun Club,
The Beau Brummels,
the Soft Cell,
Severed Heads,
The Searchers,
Bush Tetras,
Maurizio,
The Evens,
The J.B.'s,
Johnny Osbourne,
Talk Talk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The American Breed,
Sex Pistols,
Eden Ahbez,
The Leaves,
New Age Steppers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Sherman,
Yellowson,
Freddie Wadling,
Sparks,
Bill Near,
Fat Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Mars,
Loose Ends,
Can,
The Fugs,
H. Thieme,
K-Klass,
Section 25,
Blossom Toes,
cv313,
Joy Division,
Alton Ellis,
Kool Moe Dee,
kango's stein massive,
Lou Reed,
The Cramps,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fifty Foot Hose,
T. Rex,
R.M.O.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric Copeland,
Negative Approach,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.