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 Turkmenistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Yazoo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dave Gahan,
Andrew Hill,
Barry Ungar,
Ossler,
Dead Boys,
Scrapy,
The Residents,
Faust,
Delta 5,
Y Pants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Knickerbockers,
Pere Ubu,
Faraquet,
Glenn Branca,
Crooked Eye,
Sonny Sharrock,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dead C,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Max Romeo,
Joey Negro,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gun Club,
Tropical Tobacco,
Arcadia,
The Black Dice,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Moon,
MDC,
ABBA,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Smog,
Mad Mike,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Subhumans,
Unwound,
Chris & Cosey,
L. Decosne,
Organ,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Thompson Twins,
The Birthday Party,
Sugar Minott,
The Associates,
Don Cherry,
Brand Nubian,
Soulsonic Force,
Niagra,
Henry Cow,
The Dirtbombs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hot Snakes,
Tomorrow,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.