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 Guinea and from Madrid.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Max Romeo to the crunk 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Dark Day,
Television,
Black Bananas,
Yazoo,
Erasure,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sun City Girls,
Mantronix,
Eddi Front,
Parry Music,
the Slits,
Procol Harum,
The Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arab on Radar,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Smoke,
Barry Ungar,
the Germs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Can,
Basic Channel,
The Fugs,
Iggy Pop,
Zero Boys,
Swell Maps,
Crispian St. Peters,
Animal Collective,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Starr,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Archie Shepp,
Gang of Four,
Robert Hood,
Silicon Teens,
Joensuu 1685,
Vladislav Delay,
Mo-Dettes,
Soft Cell,
Oneida,
DJ Sneak,
Audionom,
Godley & Creme,
Morten Harket,
The Moody Blues,
The United States of America,
Bobby Womack,
ABC,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lindisfarne,
John Coltrane,
Popol Vuh,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terry Callier,
Max Romeo,
Make Up,
JFA,
Fela Kuti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.