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 Liberia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Quantec,
The Angels of Light,
Graham Central Station,
Wolf Eyes,
The Remains,
The Fortunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dead Boys,
Quadrant,
The Count Five,
Lungfish,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bauhaus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Mission of Burma,
Magma,
Hot Snakes,
The Monochrome Set,
Sex Pistols,
Angry Samoans,
June of 44,
Hashim,
Infiniti,
Amazonics,
Davy DMX,
The Leaves,
Malaria!,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Selecter,
the Germs,
The Moody Blues,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Wake,
cv313,
Jacques Brel,
Mark Hollis,
Tears for Fears,
The Fall,
Whodini,
The New Christs,
Bill Wells,
Excepter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Normal,
Leonard Cohen,
Harmonia,
This Heat,
The Invisible,
Bobby Womack,
In Retrospect,
Radiopuhelimet,
Chris Corsano,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Althea and Donna,
Brothers Johnson,
Blake Baxter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang Green,
Franke,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.