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 Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Kenny Larkin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
This Heat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Das Ding,
Saccharine Trust,
Nico,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cowsills,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wolf Eyes,
The Red Krayola,
Howard Jones,
a-ha,
Grauzone,
The Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nils Olav,
Faraquet,
Jawbox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scan 7,
These Immortal Souls,
Laurel Aitken,
June of 44,
Index,
The Move,
The Golliwogs,
The Names,
Fluxion,
Minnie Riperton,
The Dirtbombs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
48th St. Collective,
Eden Ahbez,
Aloha Tigers,
Wings,
The Five Americans,
Urselle,
Wire,
Kas Product,
The Birthday Party,
June Days,
Arcadia,
Lindisfarne,
Motorama,
Gerry Rafferty,
KRS-One,
Visage,
Hoover,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Slits,
The Misunderstood,
Toni Rubio,
Todd Rundgren,
Arab on Radar,
The Electric Prunes,
Scratch Acid,
The American Breed,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.