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 Japan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kaleidoscope to the disco 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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Blake Baxter,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Warren Ellis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultravox,
Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
Swell Maps,
Con Funk Shun,
The Monochrome Set,
Mr. Review,
Harry Pussy,
Alphaville,
Man Eating Sloth,
Television,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter and Kerry,
Essential Logic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Busters,
The Monks,
Neil Young,
Arthur Verocai,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Young Rascals,
Motorama,
Chris Corsano,
Ultra Naté,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare,
the Bar-Kays,
Patti Smith,
the Soft Cell,
The Smiths,
Joensuu 1685,
Bill Wells,
Jerry's Kids,
The Grass Roots,
Cecil Taylor,
Scrapy,
Anthony Braxton,
the Germs,
Second Layer,
Deepchord,
Arab on Radar,
The Walker Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
The Kinks,
The Litter,
June of 44,
Nik Kershaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grauzone,
Connie Case,
Pierre Henry,
The Five Americans,
Ten City,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.