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 Kiribati and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the dance 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Q65,
Electric Prunes,
Scan 7,
Desert Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
ABBA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Prince Buster,
Interpol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Beau Brummels,
Oblivians,
Joyce Sims,
Reuben Wilson,
Rapeman,
Rhythm & Sound,
Depeche Mode,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Quadrant,
Swans,
The Birthday Party,
The Happenings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Althea and Donna,
the Human League,
Howard Jones,
Robert Hood,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sound,
Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-101,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sarah Menescal,
Von Mondo,
Chris & Cosey,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Byrd,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
JFA,
Fatback Band,
Massinfluence,
Joe Smooth,
Pole,
Sugar Minott,
The Techniques,
The Misunderstood,
Shoche,
Bang On A Can,
The J.B.'s,
Barry Ungar,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Junior Murvin,
Slick Rick,
Davy DMX,
Black Bananas,
Wings,
DNA,
Hashim,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.