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 Kosovo and from Shanghai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Cameo,
Symarip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blancmange,
The Moody Blues,
Graham Central Station,
Dual Sessions,
Black Flag,
Excepter,
Anthony Braxton,
Eddi Front,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-102,
Gichy Dan,
Whodini,
Slave,
Infiniti,
Fluxion,
Franke,
Johnny Clarke,
Lungfish,
Wolf Eyes,
Lou Christie,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Banda Bassotti,
the Human League,
Cal Tjader,
Tom Boy,
Radio Birdman,
Dead Boys,
Black Bananas,
Rekid,
Girls At Our Best!,
Maurizio,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dirtbombs,
Panda Bear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dennis Brown,
Mary Jane Girls,
UT,
Index,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fad Gadget,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Agitation Free,
Supertramp,
Grauzone,
The Sonics,
Bauhaus,
Don Cherry,
Can,
The Trojans,
Eurythmics,
New Age Steppers,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.