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 France and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bremen.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Brass Construction to the techno 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Lindisfarne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Reagan Youth,
The Real Kids,
Sparks,
Al Stewart,
The Red Krayola,
Anthony Braxton,
MC5,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Heaven 17,
Fugazi,
the Human League,
Franke,
Godley & Creme,
Theoretical Girls,
Symarip,
Sound Behaviour,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Star Department,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pussy Galore,
Isaac Hayes,
Aswad,
June of 44,
Massinfluence,
Swans,
Faraquet,
Schoolly D,
The Evens,
Lucky Dragons,
Derrick Morgan,
Blossom Toes,
Anakelly,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Cale,
Gabor Szabo,
Liliput,
Black Pus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Excepter,
Audionom,
Das Ding,
Gang of Four,
Bang On A Can,
Kaleidoscope,
Basic Channel,
Lyres,
Iggy Pop,
Silicon Teens,
Marc Almond,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brass Construction,
Ten City,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Matthew Bourne,
Accadde A,
The Durutti Column,
Cal Tjader,
The Barracudas,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.