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 Madagascar and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tommy Roe to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Human League,
The Fall,
In Retrospect,
a-ha,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Smooth,
Anakelly,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Talk Talk,
The Index,
Susan Cadogan,
Y Pants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Warsaw,
Niagra,
The Fire Engines,
New Age Steppers,
The Evens,
Technova,
The Skatalites,
Wally Richardson,
Grey Daturas,
CMW,
The American Breed,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Womack,
The Monks,
Eddi Front,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
June Days,
Drexciya,
Loose Ends,
Agent Orange,
Juan Atkins,
James White and The Blacks,
Barbara Tucker,
Quantec,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Fraelich,
The Monochrome Set,
The Music Machine,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eli Mardock,
the Soft Cell,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mantronix,
Crash Course in Science,
The Martian,
Moby Grape,
Public Enemy,
Iggy Pop,
Don Cherry,
Chrome,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cowsills,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.