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 Venezuela and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 The Angels of Light to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Fela Kuti,
Mr. Review,
Bang On A Can,
Soft Cell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kerri Chandler,
Derrick May,
Public Enemy,
Hasil Adkins,
One Last Wish,
K-Klass,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cure,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Godley & Creme,
Grey Daturas,
Q65,
Lou Christie,
Chris & Cosey,
The Associates,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Peter & Gordon,
June Days,
48th St. Collective,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Oblivians,
The Pretty Things,
Erasure,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Doors,
David McCallum,
Supertramp,
Masters at Work,
Don Cherry,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Rites of Spring,
The Gun Club,
The Mummies,
Outsiders,
Severed Heads,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Residents,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fortunes,
Harry Pussy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Index,
Talk Talk,
Matthew Halsall,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sixth Finger,
The Offenders,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Animal Collective,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.