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 Jamaica and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Sex Pistols,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lyres,
Stiv Bators,
Mo-Dettes,
Japan,
The Beau Brummels,
Smog,
Wings,
Boredoms,
Girls At Our Best!,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
Reagan Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brick,
Bobby Womack,
Kayak,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Severed Heads,
Joe Finger,
Echospace,
Heaven 17,
Surgeon,
The Cowsills,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barry Ungar,
Reuben Wilson,
Prince Buster,
Joy Division,
Jawbox,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minutemen,
the Normal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Magma,
H. Thieme,
the Germs,
Pantytec,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grauzone,
kango's stein massive,
Radio Birdman,
Donald Byrd,
FM Einheit,
Main Source,
Josef K,
The Remains,
Arab on Radar,
The Pop Group,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wasted Youth,
the Soft Cell,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.