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 Montenegro and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Fall to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Parry Music,
Tom Boy,
Funkadelic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June Days,
Quadrant,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Underground Resistance,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harry Pussy,
Wings,
Anthony Braxton,
The American Breed,
Scientists,
The Moleskins,
Laurel Aitken,
Wolf Eyes,
Ronan,
The Mojo Men,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Peter & Gordon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Al Stewart,
Lalo Schifrin,
Malaria!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Doors,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dirtbombs,
Visage,
Robert Görl,
Fad Gadget,
Little Man,
Basic Channel,
Sound Behaviour,
The Count Five,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
This Heat,
Eddi Front,
Godley & Creme,
The Saints,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Josef K,
The Trojans,
The Misunderstood,
The Dave Clark Five,
Junior Murvin,
A Certain Ratio,
Tres Demented,
MDC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Sheep,
Hashim,
Fugazi,
JFA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Liliput,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.