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 Suriname and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Louis and Bebe Barron 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Public Enemy,
Soft Cell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Human League,
Grauzone,
Marcia Griffiths,
Schoolly D,
The Cure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Qualms,
Section 25,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tommy Roe,
Q65,
the Bar-Kays,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Basic Channel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
Hashim,
Parry Music,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T. Rex,
Camberwell Now,
Altered Images,
Heaven 17,
Cecil Taylor,
Wally Richardson,
Lightning Bolt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Loose Ends,
Blossom Toes,
Monolake,
Duran Duran,
Bluetip,
Ludus,
Outsiders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Matthew Bourne,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fugs,
Main Source,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tears for Fears,
The Skatalites,
New Age Steppers,
Bauhaus,
Maleditus Sound,
Boogie Down Productions,
Livin' Joy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sexual Harrassment,
Make Up,
DNA,
Scrapy,
The Leaves,
cv313,
Babytalk,
Frankie Knuckles,
Animal Collective,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.