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 Hungary and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 Wasted Youth to the electroclash 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Mad Mike,
Visage,
Marmalade,
The Fall,
Dave Gahan,
Funky Four + One,
Jawbox,
Icehouse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Quando Quango,
KRS-One,
Swans,
Moebius,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eurythmics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Pus,
Deakin,
The Divine Comedy,
Slick Rick,
Laurel Aitken,
Echospace,
Godley & Creme,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Count Five,
U.S. Maple,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minny Pops,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Christie,
Wally Richardson,
Model 500,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Byrd,
X-102,
Alice Coltrane,
Camouflage,
Thee Headcoats,
The Litter,
The Wake,
Groovy Waters,
Barry Ungar,
The Golliwogs,
EPMD,
F. McDonald,
Grauzone,
The Monks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
Magazine,
R.M.O.,
Alton Ellis,
Man Parrish,
the Human League,
a-ha,
Ornette Coleman,
The Trojans,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.