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 Laos and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Ronan to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
E-Dancer,
Aswad,
Crime,
The Sound,
Niagra,
The Zeros,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Anakelly,
Hardrive,
Sister Nancy,
Prince Buster,
Thompson Twins,
Surgeon,
Gang Starr,
Yazoo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lower 48,
Duran Duran,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Harry Pussy,
Crash Course in Science,
Rakim,
Das Ding,
The Barracudas,
Schoolly D,
The Slits,
The Knickerbockers,
Interpol,
Pylon,
Swell Maps,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Masters at Work,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
JFA,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Smiths,
Dave Gahan,
The Fortunes,
The Stooges,
Babytalk,
Spandau Ballet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Popol Vuh,
Bush Tetras,
Patti Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
The Electric Prunes,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Green,
Mo-Dettes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kurtis Blow,
48th St. Collective,
Wally Richardson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Clear Light,
This Heat,
DJ Style,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.