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 Mali and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 U.S. Maple to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
The Stooges,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Saints,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alphaville,
Eric Copeland,
Siglo XX,
Mark Hollis,
Bronski Beat,
Inner City,
Public Image Ltd.,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
Model 500,
Jandek,
EPMD,
Marine Girls,
Masters at Work,
China Crisis,
Monolake,
The Fortunes,
The Raincoats,
Oneida,
The Last Poets,
Radiohead,
the Slits,
Neu!,
Buzzcocks,
Lakeside,
Jeff Mills,
Iggy Pop,
UT,
the Soft Cell,
Scientists,
Kas Product,
The Alarm Clocks,
10cc,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sarah Menescal,
Newcleus,
Charles Mingus,
Scrapy,
Icehouse,
Young Marble Giants,
The Techniques,
Hashim,
John Foxx,
Rod Modell,
Silicon Teens,
Mo-Dettes,
The Standells,
The Divine Comedy,
a-ha,
The Misunderstood,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yazoo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Derrick Morgan,
ABBA,
Ituana,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.