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 Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Grauzone to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
The Selecter,
The Slits,
Franke,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nick Fraelich,
Nation of Ulysses,
Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Arab on Radar,
Malaria!,
Sparks,
Mr. Review,
New Order,
The Velvet Underground,
Lebanon Hanover,
Parry Music,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Chris Corsano,
James White and The Blacks,
Fela Kuti,
Magazine,
Minor Threat,
Peter and Kerry,
Smog,
AZ,
Bronski Beat,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Cale,
Barclay James Harvest,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eurythmics,
Alphaville,
The Moody Blues,
The Music Machine,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fluxion,
X-Ray Spex,
Wings,
Gang Green,
Trumans Water,
The Golliwogs,
Organ,
The Motions,
The Associates,
Arthur Verocai,
The Buckinghams,
Interpol,
Hoover,
Marvin Gaye,
Monolake,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deepchord,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blancmange,
LL Cool J,
Curtis Mayfield,
Agent Orange,
The Black Dice,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.