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 Cameroon and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 The Happenings to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Urselle,
Sugar Minott,
Mad Mike,
Stetsasonic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soft Machine,
Siglo XX,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
EPMD,
Zapp,
Procol Harum,
Lou Christie,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amon Düül II,
Charles Mingus,
The Buckinghams,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Martian,
Shuggie Otis,
David Bowie,
The Birthday Party,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Smooth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Shoche,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
James White and The Blacks,
Brass Construction,
The Grass Roots,
Suburban Knight,
The Doobie Brothers,
Motorama,
Bill Wells,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kerri Chandler,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Flag,
Lower 48,
Skriet,
Deakin,
Bill Near,
Average White Band,
Scan 7,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gichy Dan,
Barry Ungar,
Eden Ahbez,
Jerry's Kids,
Livin' Joy,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tomorrow,
Ponytail,
Pulsallama,
Erykah Badu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Desert Stars,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.