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 Spain and from Beijing.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the electroclash 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
MC5,
The Slackers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maurizio,
The Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
These Immortal Souls,
Kaleidoscope,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Henry Cow,
Liliput,
Sparks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pole,
Bad Manners,
Yaz,
Janne Schatter,
The Music Machine,
Flash Fearless,
The Selecter,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Half Japanese,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wire,
Franke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Hasil Adkins,
Howard Jones,
Negative Approach,
The Angels of Light,
the Bar-Kays,
Average White Band,
Delta 5,
Bootsy Collins,
Cameo,
Darondo,
Monks,
Eddi Front,
June of 44,
Ronnie Foster,
DJ Style,
Can,
Thompson Twins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lakeside,
D'Angelo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Trumans Water,
Spandau Ballet,
Quando Quango,
Pere Ubu,
Lou Christie,
Glenn Branca,
Intrusion,
Barry Ungar,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brick,
Lalann,
Silicon Teens,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.