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 Serbia and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 David McCallum to the grunge 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Barrington Levy,
Japan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scientists,
The Invisible,
The Slackers,
Dawn Penn,
New Age Steppers,
Rotary Connection,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Man Parrish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sam Rivers,
The Star Department,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Essential Logic,
The Zeros,
Archie Shepp,
Alice Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Pantytec,
Minor Threat,
Crooked Eye,
Deadbeat,
Little Man,
Amazonics,
JFA,
Stetsasonic,
8 Eyed Spy,
James White and The Blacks,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Divine Comedy,
Simply Red,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jacob Miller,
The Velvet Underground,
Roy Ayers,
The Mojo Men,
Pylon,
Faraquet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
La Düsseldorf,
The Cramps,
Radiohead,
Brand Nubian,
Lakeside,
Ludus,
Arcadia,
Massinfluence,
Lungfish,
The Toasters,
Glenn Branca,
L. Decosne,
Johnny Osbourne,
Idris Muhammad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun City Girls,
Thompson Twins,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.