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 Guyana and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Scrapy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Black Sheep,
Faraquet,
Mr. Review,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chrome,
Tres Demented,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Skaos,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Young Rascals,
Charles Mingus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Au Pairs,
Marc Almond,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harry Pussy,
The Motions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ken Boothe,
Al Stewart,
Piero Umiliani,
Heaven 17,
The Raincoats,
Fela Kuti,
The Buckinghams,
The Selecter,
Freddie Wadling,
Groovy Waters,
Amon Düül II,
The Stooges,
The Gladiators,
New Age Steppers,
The Seeds,
Yaz,
The Vogues,
Soulsonic Force,
Clear Light,
The Trojans,
Soft Machine,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gabor Szabo,
Glenn Branca,
Alice Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
Shuggie Otis,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pop Group,
Blancmange,
Slave,
Aloha Tigers,
Deadbeat,
The Cramps,
The Moleskins,
Danielle Patucci,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dead Boys,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.