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 the UAE and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Chris Corsano 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Reuben Wilson,
Sam Rivers,
Liliput,
Agent Orange,
Isaac Hayes,
MC5,
The Monochrome Set,
Essential Logic,
the Sonics,
Mars,
The Divine Comedy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deepchord,
Stiv Bators,
Chris Corsano,
Yellowson,
Royal Trux,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flipper,
Roy Ayers,
E-Dancer,
Trumans Water,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Excepter,
Porter Ricks,
Severed Heads,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Smiths,
Crime,
The Moleskins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Pus,
Pierre Henry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ohio Players,
Janne Schatter,
Masters at Work,
The Last Poets,
Kenny Larkin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Coltrane,
Ice-T,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Patti Smith,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Thompson Twins,
Brothers Johnson,
Das Ding,
Tim Buckley,
the Association,
Neil Young,
Audionom,
A Certain Ratio,
The Gladiators,
Banda Bassotti,
the Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Heaven 17,
Public Image Ltd.,
Au Pairs,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.