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 Peru and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Sonics to the crunk 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mark Hollis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sun City Girls,
The Fortunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Essential Logic,
Nirvana,
In Retrospect,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Smog,
Carl Craig,
Radiohead,
Joy Division,
The Star Department,
Suicide,
Kas Product,
The Happenings,
Fugazi,
Tropical Tobacco,
Moebius,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Technova,
Robert Görl,
Magma,
The United States of America,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Shadows of Knight,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Womack,
Groovy Waters,
Lindisfarne,
Bill Near,
Von Mondo,
Scientists,
ABC,
Thee Headcoats,
Tears for Fears,
The Victims,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The New Christs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rosa Yemen,
Dead Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bizarre Inc.,
Donald Byrd,
The Cure,
R.M.O.,
Hoover,
The Divine Comedy,
Alphaville,
James White and The Blacks,
Brothers Johnson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Average White Band,
Joyce Sims,
Second Layer,
Young Marble Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.