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 Austria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rekid to the funk 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-102,
The Busters,
Bill Wells,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masters at Work,
Anakelly,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lou Reed,
Ultravox,
The Martian,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Golliwogs,
Qualms,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Associates,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pantaleimon,
The Velvet Underground,
Metal Thangz,
Scratch Acid,
Scion,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rekid,
the Germs,
Depeche Mode,
T.S.O.L.,
Lindisfarne,
The Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cure,
The Sound,
Television,
Negative Approach,
Thee Headcoats,
the Bar-Kays,
Graham Central Station,
Brothers Johnson,
Excepter,
The Last Poets,
K-Klass,
Faraquet,
Fat Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dead C,
The Knickerbockers,
New Order,
Jacob Miller,
Joyce Sims,
Soft Cell,
The Moleskins,
Liliput,
The Index,
Ronnie Foster,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.