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 Sri Lanka and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba 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 Marcia Griffiths to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Goldenarms,
Pagans,
Silicon Teens,
Lyres,
Alison Limerick,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sällskapet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pantaleimon,
Don Cherry,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grey Daturas,
L. Decosne,
Guru Guru,
The Dirtbombs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lakeside,
Man Parrish,
T.S.O.L.,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mandrill,
Terry Callier,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABBA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Metal Thangz,
Pylon,
James White and The Blacks,
Ken Boothe,
B.T. Express,
Marmalade,
Minor Threat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
F. McDonald,
Nas,
The Gladiators,
Icehouse,
Bobby Sherman,
Con Funk Shun,
New York Dolls,
Rosa Yemen,
Hashim,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tubeway Army,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blossom Toes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Mills,
EPMD,
Faust,
Subhumans,
Yusef Lateef,
Crime,
The Last Poets,
Niagra,
Eric Dolphy,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.