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 United Kingdom and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 guitar 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 Dave Gahan to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Q and Not U,
Organ,
Goldenarms,
CMW,
Pere Ubu,
Infiniti,
Ken Boothe,
Traffic Nightmare,
10cc,
Barry Ungar,
MDC,
Pulsallama,
Excepter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pierre Henry,
Technova,
Mantronix,
David Bowie,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pylon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pagans,
Trumans Water,
Flipper,
Shoche,
Darondo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Man Parrish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Todd Terry,
The J.B.'s,
The Red Krayola,
Sam Rivers,
Erykah Badu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tears for Fears,
Echospace,
Crime,
Angry Samoans,
The Doors,
Scrapy,
Reagan Youth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funky Four + One,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Idris Muhammad,
Max Romeo,
Eddi Front,
Fugazi,
Erasure,
Kas Product,
Delta 5,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
Hot Snakes,
Soul II Soul,
Barrington Levy,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.