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 Tunisia and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
48th St. Collective,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Dead C,
Jandek,
Kas Product,
Monolake,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Cale,
Faust,
Los Fastidios,
The Searchers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gong,
Ten City,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Blancmange,
Lou Christie,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Move,
The Trojans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Franke,
Scratch Acid,
Kayak,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Depeche Mode,
David Axelrod,
Bronski Beat,
Inner City,
Peter & Gordon,
Scott Walker,
a-ha,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
ABC,
Neil Young,
The Gun Club,
Connie Case,
Siglo XX,
The Residents,
One Last Wish,
The Victims,
Arab on Radar,
Talk Talk,
Easy Going,
Fela Kuti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Adolescents,
Massinfluence,
Black Bananas,
Matthew Bourne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks,
Mandrill,
Rites of Spring,
Rapeman,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.