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 El Salvador and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ossler to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Icehouse,
Soul Sonic Force,
Make Up,
Desert Stars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kas Product,
Procol Harum,
the Normal,
the Germs,
Mo-Dettes,
Aloha Tigers,
Bauhaus,
Magazine,
The Move,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Model 500,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Carl Craig,
Kerri Chandler,
The Doors,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donald Byrd,
Susan Cadogan,
Symarip,
The Real Kids,
The Barracudas,
Quantec,
Excepter,
Babytalk,
Moebius,
Joy Division,
Urselle,
Yazoo,
Youth Brigade,
Talk Talk,
Idris Muhammad,
The Star Department,
The Dead C,
The Motions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
One Last Wish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fela Kuti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Skaos,
Spandau Ballet,
The Pop Group,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dirtbombs,
X-102,
The Last Poets,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Cale,
Peter & Gordon,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.