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 Latvia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Offenders to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Charles Mingus,
Erasure,
Leonard Cohen,
John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Tomorrow,
Slave,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Donald Byrd,
The Sound,
Terry Callier,
Patti Smith,
OOIOO,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sister Nancy,
Pet Shop Boys,
New Order,
The Knickerbockers,
Aural Exciters,
Barbara Tucker,
Harmonia,
Visage,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ken Boothe,
Depeche Mode,
Nick Fraelich,
Bad Manners,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glenn Branca,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joyce Sims,
Liliput,
Scan 7,
Altered Images,
The Dirtbombs,
Nik Kershaw,
Mr. Review,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arthur Verocai,
Barry Ungar,
Jandek,
Alton Ellis,
Bush Tetras,
Pylon,
the Normal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
KRS-One,
Moby Grape,
The Busters,
Fat Boys,
Heaven 17,
B.T. Express,
Sound Behaviour,
Gichy Dan,
The Seeds,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Hill,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.