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 Cameroon and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Busters to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Seeds,
Jacob Miller,
Japan,
Roger Hodgson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bang On A Can,
The Pretty Things,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brick,
Max Romeo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wasted Youth,
The Gories,
10cc,
Yaz,
Eric Dolphy,
Bronski Beat,
The Leaves,
David McCallum,
Throbbing Gristle,
Siglo XX,
The Grass Roots,
The Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
The Happenings,
Ossler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Altered Images,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Womack,
X-101,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masters at Work,
Minor Threat,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Victims,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
F. McDonald,
The Raincoats,
Guru Guru,
Joey Negro,
the Germs,
Fatback Band,
Slave,
Sam Rivers,
The New Christs,
Yazoo,
Jawbox,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
Tres Demented,
Monks,
The Slits,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Danielle Patucci,
John Coltrane,
The Smoke,
Icehouse,
Robert Görl,
Eddi Front,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.