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 Costa Rica and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Litter to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Basic Channel,
The J.B.'s,
The Red Krayola,
Hot Snakes,
Jacques Brel,
The Move,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jawbox,
Susan Cadogan,
Severed Heads,
Erasure,
Adolescents,
Zapp,
Janne Schatter,
Warren Ellis,
Andrew Hill,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Flash Fearless,
Ponytail,
Mary Jane Girls,
Royal Trux,
Echospace,
The Leaves,
The Birthday Party,
Marine Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Fugazi,
Tom Boy,
Soul II Soul,
Youth Brigade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
Albert Ayler,
Fat Boys,
Ituana,
Terry Callier,
Malaria!,
Yaz,
Iggy Pop,
L. Decosne,
The Index,
Circle Jerks,
The Evens,
Leonard Cohen,
The Barracudas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang of Four,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
Lalann,
8 Eyed Spy,
Qualms,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Neon Judgement,
Josef K,
Das Ding,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.