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 Slovakia and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Josef K to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Barrington Levy,
Glenn Branca,
Harmonia,
the Sonics,
Brick,
Excepter,
U.S. Maple,
Kenny Larkin,
Cecil Taylor,
Brand Nubian,
Masters at Work,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Pulsallama,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick May,
Althea and Donna,
Black Pus,
Unrelated Segments,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scientists,
the Normal,
The Wake,
The Monochrome Set,
David Axelrod,
Mantronix,
Q and Not U,
Au Pairs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cowsills,
Kaleidoscope,
The Move,
Gang Starr,
Television Personalities,
Lyres,
T. Rex,
F. McDonald,
Nico,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
The Trojans,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pole,
Amazonics,
Derrick Morgan,
Hardrive,
Average White Band,
Bob Dylan,
Alton Ellis,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slits,
Banda Bassotti,
Nik Kershaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sparks,
The Offenders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.