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 Indonesia and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Desert Stars,
Qualms,
Rod Modell,
Interpol,
D'Angelo,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Hood,
R.M.O.,
Ornette Coleman,
Leonard Cohen,
Mars,
The Last Poets,
Skaos,
Joey Negro,
Moss Icon,
Theoretical Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Birthday Party,
Ohio Players,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultravox,
Funkadelic,
Quadrant,
Underground Resistance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Derrick May,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul II Soul,
Siglo XX,
The Real Kids,
Charles Mingus,
Bill Near,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Leaves,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
MC5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
LL Cool J,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fire Engines,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Happenings,
Moby Grape,
Scan 7,
Hoover,
Khruangbin,
Cameo,
Essential Logic,
X-102,
Kerri Chandler,
Erykah Badu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lalann,
Sun Ra,
JFA,
Lightning Bolt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.