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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bauhaus to the punk 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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Sällskapet,
Kayak,
Nik Kershaw,
June of 44,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arab on Radar,
AZ,
The American Breed,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bauhaus,
The Buckinghams,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Television Personalities,
Nils Olav,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mission of Burma,
Funky Four + One,
Funkadelic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Excepter,
Mad Mike,
Circle Jerks,
The Birthday Party,
Eurythmics,
The Last Poets,
The Martian,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Soft Cell,
Slave,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jerry's Kids,
Das Ding,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fuzztones,
Lyres,
Slick Rick,
X-101,
Desert Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Neu!,
The Slackers,
Organ,
The Cramps,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boz Scaggs,
Buzzcocks,
The Happenings,
Sixth Finger,
Bronski Beat,
Barry Ungar,
Tres Demented,
Easy Going,
Pantytec,
a-ha,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.