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 Czech Republic and from Stockholm.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 Pharoah Sanders to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Agent Orange,
The Real Kids,
The Doors,
The Blues Magoos,
Bronski Beat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Loose Ends,
Skriet,
Mary Jane Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Eden Ahbez,
The Martian,
Rekid,
Altered Images,
La Düsseldorf,
John Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
Joyce Sims,
Matthew Bourne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Stooges,
Bob Dylan,
Leonard Cohen,
Alton Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Lungfish,
Barry Ungar,
Quantec,
Oneida,
Nirvana,
Maurizio,
Ice-T,
Sonic Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
Howard Jones,
Wings,
Wire,
Guru Guru,
Bill Wells,
Magma,
The Tremeloes,
Outsiders,
The Victims,
Trumans Water,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Five Americans,
Black Flag,
The Fortunes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Selecter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Qualms,
The Moleskins,
The Electric Prunes,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.