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 Seoul.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Banda Bassotti to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers 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?
Altered Images,
Mandrill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cheater Slicks,
Ronnie Foster,
Pere Ubu,
Popol Vuh,
Johnny Clarke,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang of Four,
New York Dolls,
Brothers Johnson,
Bauhaus,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fugs,
Quando Quango,
Yaz,
Liliput,
Kaleidoscope,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Human League,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Vogues,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kurtis Blow,
The Victims,
This Heat,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Last Poets,
The New Christs,
The Angels of Light,
Monks,
Pantaleimon,
Skaos,
The Golliwogs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Television,
Ossler,
Jeff Lynne,
Kas Product,
The Seeds,
David McCallum,
Minutemen,
Pet Shop Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Warren Ellis,
Animal Collective,
Stiv Bators,
Colin Newman,
Average White Band,
F. McDonald,
FM Einheit,
The Selecter,
Matthew Bourne,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tom Boy,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.