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 Qatar and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Prince Buster to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Marc Almond,
Man Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Matthew Halsall,
Little Man,
Khruangbin,
Graham Central Station,
Basic Channel,
Aswad,
The Smiths,
Peter & Gordon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Mojo Men,
Hardrive,
Black Moon,
The Cure,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Spoonie Gee,
Minutemen,
Whodini,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultimate Spinach,
Peter and Kerry,
New York Dolls,
Agitation Free,
Brand Nubian,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deepchord,
Quando Quango,
cv313,
Au Pairs,
The Litter,
Y Pants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Knickerbockers,
The Beau Brummels,
The Selecter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Audionom,
Index,
David Bowie,
The Young Rascals,
Franke,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Christie,
H. Thieme,
The Remains,
Joey Negro,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cheater Slicks,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultravox,
Deakin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Davy DMX,
Scan 7,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.