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 Micronesia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 Vainqueur to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Stooges,
Minutemen,
New Order,
The Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
the Human League,
Lou Christie,
The Buckinghams,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Count Five,
Jimmy McGriff,
Supertramp,
The Blues Magoos,
Sight & Sound,
Severed Heads,
Fear,
Joey Negro,
Radio Birdman,
Cluster,
Bauhaus,
Dorothy Ashby,
L. Decosne,
Q and Not U,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Colin Newman,
Moebius,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Technova,
Patti Smith,
Kayak,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delta 5,
Swans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sällskapet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Basic Channel,
Qualms,
The Associates,
The Searchers,
Dead Boys,
MDC,
Monks,
F. McDonald,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pagans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Intrusion,
Matthew Bourne,
Urselle,
Scrapy,
The Seeds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed,
Danielle Patucci,
Laurel Aitken,
Moss Icon,
The Golliwogs,
New York Dolls,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.