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 Mozambique and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Camouflage to the punk 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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Almond,
Yaz,
Peter & Gordon,
Mad Mike,
The Gap Band,
Royal Trux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lucky Dragons,
Das Ding,
The Techniques,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Interpol,
Ultra Naté,
Sparks,
Television,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Prince Buster,
Ten City,
Roxette,
Fugazi,
cv313,
The Cure,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Clear Light,
a-ha,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Alice Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
AZ,
Urselle,
Pierre Henry,
Junior Murvin,
The Offenders,
The Wake,
Main Source,
Gang Starr,
The Cramps,
Sandy B,
DJ Style,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pagans,
Mark Hollis,
The Raincoats,
Flash Fearless,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Monks,
Brand Nubian,
Alton Ellis,
DNA,
Soul II Soul,
The Slits,
The J.B.'s,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camouflage,
Leonard Cohen,
La Düsseldorf,
The Beau Brummels,
Bauhaus,
Animal Collective,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.