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 Luxembourg and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ossler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Severed Heads,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maurizio,
Donny Hathaway,
Joe Finger,
Adolescents,
The Invisible,
Bronski Beat,
Mantronix,
Cheater Slicks,
The Black Dice,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sarah Menescal,
Organ,
Yellowson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
This Heat,
Unrelated Segments,
Juan Atkins,
New Order,
Steve Hackett,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Reagan Youth,
Sixth Finger,
The Cramps,
Nils Olav,
Boz Scaggs,
Scrapy,
Brothers Johnson,
Faust,
Oneida,
The Raincoats,
Public Enemy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dorothy Ashby,
Man Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lee Hazlewood,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tim Buckley,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Moody Blues,
Eve St. Jones,
Skriet,
Kerri Chandler,
Flash Fearless,
Cymande,
Ponytail,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Japan,
Blake Baxter,
The Pretty Things,
The Mojo Men,
Freddie Wadling,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.