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 Mauritius and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Absolute Body Control to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Grass Roots,
Juan Atkins,
Main Source,
Bill Near,
Neil Young,
Absolute Body Control,
Scientists,
Man Eating Sloth,
Circle Jerks,
Scion,
Harpers Bizarre,
David Bowie,
Piero Umiliani,
Tomorrow,
Erasure,
Steve Hackett,
Nick Fraelich,
Ossler,
John Holt,
Supertramp,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DNA,
The Happenings,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Johnny Osbourne,
Das Ding,
Popol Vuh,
Eden Ahbez,
Half Japanese,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gabor Szabo,
Gong,
Black Flag,
Scott Walker,
Bronski Beat,
AZ,
Depeche Mode,
Mark Hollis,
The Dead C,
Connie Case,
The Offenders,
Gang of Four,
Outsiders,
Los Fastidios,
Blancmange,
Wire,
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Clarke,
Arcadia,
U.S. Maple,
The Dave Clark Five,
Icehouse,
This Heat,
Fugazi,
Pylon,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
Sex Pistols,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.