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 Eritrea and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Buckinghams to the disco 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
The Count Five,
Man Parrish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skarface,
Moby Grape,
Mission of Burma,
Public Enemy,
Quadrant,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Gregory Isaacs,
Subhumans,
Ice-T,
Monks,
The Human League,
Marc Almond,
John Coltrane,
Parry Music,
Lalann,
The Moleskins,
Porter Ricks,
Deadbeat,
Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
Electric Prunes,
Nils Olav,
Main Source,
Saccharine Trust,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Connie Case,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Misunderstood,
The Vogues,
Crime,
Urselle,
Minny Pops,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eve St. Jones,
Interpol,
The Fall,
The Raincoats,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suburban Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
Livin' Joy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rekid,
Pantytec,
DJ Style,
The Residents,
The Real Kids,
Scratch Acid,
Black Pus,
Pulsallama,
The Invisible,
La Düsseldorf,
Scrapy,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.