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 South Africa and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe 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 Shoche to the dance 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Smog,
the Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fela Kuti,
Flipper,
The Residents,
Dennis Brown,
Japan,
The Invisible,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Knickerbockers,
The Remains,
Young Marble Giants,
New York Dolls,
Graham Central Station,
Boogie Down Productions,
In Retrospect,
Symarip,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sexual Harrassment,
Niagra,
The Raincoats,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
A Certain Ratio,
Motorama,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Swell Maps,
Au Pairs,
Simply Red,
Deepchord,
The Happenings,
Loose Ends,
The Sound,
Sparks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rod Modell,
Roxy Music,
The Sonics,
Eden Ahbez,
Brass Construction,
Echospace,
Bob Dylan,
Rosa Yemen,
Barbara Tucker,
Sister Nancy,
Suburban Knight,
The Slits,
Sight & Sound,
Fugazi,
Grandmaster Flash,
Little Man,
Nik Kershaw,
Gastr Del Sol,
Neu!,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ice-T,
Scott Walker,
Nirvana,
Organ,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.