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 Jamaica 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Silicon Teens to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Camouflage,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tears for Fears,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bronski Beat,
Shoche,
ABC,
The Blues Magoos,
Thee Headcoats,
D'Angelo,
Ponytail,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Angels of Light,
Alice Coltrane,
Tomorrow,
Electric Prunes,
Pierre Henry,
The Black Dice,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Selecter,
Parry Music,
The Modern Lovers,
Subhumans,
Iggy Pop,
Adolescents,
AZ,
Rekid,
Sex Pistols,
Yazoo,
The Associates,
Flash Fearless,
June of 44,
China Crisis,
Hasil Adkins,
The Pop Group,
Nas,
Soft Cell,
Sam Rivers,
John Cale,
Qualms,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Toni Rubio,
Robert Görl,
Bush Tetras,
Lower 48,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Doors,
Massinfluence,
Reagan Youth,
Clear Light,
the Germs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dennis Brown,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jandek,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.