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 Oman and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
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 chamberlin 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 Marine Girls to the dance 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
Donald Byrd,
Man Parrish,
the Swans,
Surgeon,
David Bowie,
Brass Construction,
Pagans,
Sonic Youth,
The Neon Judgement,
It's A Beautiful Day,
June Days,
Hardrive,
Depeche Mode,
Public Enemy,
John Foxx,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kurtis Blow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantytec,
Todd Rundgren,
Joyce Sims,
Tim Buckley,
Malaria!,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Byrd,
Harry Pussy,
Soft Machine,
Nirvana,
U.S. Maple,
John Cale,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
Rakim,
Excepter,
The Birthday Party,
Supertramp,
kango's stein massive,
Desert Stars,
R.M.O.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Buzzcocks,
Au Pairs,
B.T. Express,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Spandau Ballet,
Sex Pistols,
Joy Division,
Arab on Radar,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yaz,
Judy Mowatt,
Shoche,
Morten Harket,
The Invisible,
Cameo,
Quantec,
Joe Finger,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.