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 Ireland and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar 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 Chris & Cosey to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Pole,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Kinks,
Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
Monolake,
Subhumans,
Pylon,
Amon Düül II,
PIL,
E-Dancer,
A Certain Ratio,
Quando Quango,
The Angels of Light,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roxette,
Erykah Badu,
Pere Ubu,
Whodini,
Sixth Finger,
Scrapy,
The Tremeloes,
Radio Birdman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ice-T,
Bill Near,
Minnie Riperton,
Ronan,
Inner City,
Pharoah Sanders,
Danielle Patucci,
New Order,
the Human League,
MDC,
Nirvana,
The Grass Roots,
The Vogues,
Cal Tjader,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gories,
Talk Talk,
Albert Ayler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Neil Young,
Marshall Jefferson,
Altered Images,
ABBA,
Section 25,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Idris Muhammad,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kaleidoscope,
The Associates,
Masters at Work,
New Age Steppers,
Bill Wells,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.