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 Romania and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Golliwogs to the techno 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Wolf Eyes,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Starr,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stereo Dub,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
F. McDonald,
Hasil Adkins,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Newcleus,
Cecil Taylor,
Reuben Wilson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Magazine,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
Section 25,
Chris Corsano,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Zapp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mars,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Can,
Bronski Beat,
Scientists,
Loose Ends,
Wire,
Technova,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yellowson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Main Source,
Easy Going,
The Fugs,
Deadbeat,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Real Kids,
Slave,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slits,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bush Tetras,
Eddi Front,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alton Ellis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Trumans Water,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grandmaster Flash,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.