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 Qatar and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar 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 AZ to the disco 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June Days,
Ultra Naté,
Camberwell Now,
James White and The Blacks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Names,
Urselle,
Fad Gadget,
A Certain Ratio,
Henry Cow,
The Divine Comedy,
Inner City,
Dual Sessions,
Max Romeo,
Saccharine Trust,
The Electric Prunes,
Spandau Ballet,
Colin Newman,
Gabor Szabo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Lydon,
Lungfish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Deadbeat,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Wells,
Bad Manners,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Germs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Dirtbombs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Agent Orange,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bang On A Can,
Mr. Review,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suicide,
Soulsonic Force,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rufus Thomas,
The Victims,
Lou Christie,
Marmalade,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Near,
The Slackers,
Pole,
Cameo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blake Baxter,
Thompson Twins,
Scientists,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.