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 Belarus and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marmalade to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Agent Orange,
Masters at Work,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spandau Ballet,
The Beau Brummels,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tears for Fears,
The Fugs,
Swell Maps,
The Count Five,
Moss Icon,
The United States of America,
Fear,
L. Decosne,
Ultra Naté,
Lalann,
Barbara Tucker,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brothers Johnson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra,
Nick Fraelich,
Rapeman,
One Last Wish,
Matthew Bourne,
Motorama,
The Mummies,
Chrome,
Bill Wells,
Barrington Levy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Desert Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Funkadelic,
R.M.O.,
Harmonia,
the Human League,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Starr,
Ultravox,
John Lydon,
Banda Bassotti,
Graham Central Station,
The Evens,
FM Einheit,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erykah Badu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes,
Nirvana,
Bobby Womack,
Juan Atkins,
Goldenarms,
Simply Red,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gabor Szabo,
Q and Not U,
David Bowie,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.