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 United Kingdom and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Gories to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Bobby Sherman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
Fad Gadget,
Q and Not U,
Carl Craig,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
a-ha,
The Smoke,
Morten Harket,
Babytalk,
The Gories,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thompson Twins,
Kas Product,
June of 44,
the Swans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brothers Johnson,
Inner City,
Sixth Finger,
the Human League,
Isaac Hayes,
F. McDonald,
Fatback Band,
The Remains,
The United States of America,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Slave,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ituana,
Scrapy,
The Cramps,
Rites of Spring,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cure,
Ponytail,
Archie Shepp,
Erasure,
Tommy Roe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Skatalites,
Marc Almond,
Bush Tetras,
Radiohead,
Crime,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Bananas,
Ultravox,
Andrew Hill,
Minutemen,
John Foxx,
Cybotron,
ABBA,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Delon & Dalcan,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.