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 Andorra and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Fugazi to the rap 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
James White and The Blacks,
DNA,
Nik Kershaw,
Aural Exciters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Freddie Wadling,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sandy B,
Metal Thangz,
Brand Nubian,
Angry Samoans,
Tres Demented,
Drexciya,
Mission of Burma,
Scott Walker,
Kerri Chandler,
Con Funk Shun,
Crash Course in Science,
Juan Atkins,
Warsaw,
The Modern Lovers,
Grey Daturas,
Howard Jones,
China Crisis,
Youth Brigade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
Darondo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Subhumans,
Smog,
In Retrospect,
Popol Vuh,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stiv Bators,
DJ Sneak,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Motorama,
One Last Wish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Altered Images,
D'Angelo,
Roy Ayers,
Ituana,
The Saints,
The Barracudas,
Black Flag,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The New Christs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pantytec,
Ronnie Foster,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
Flamin' Groovies,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roxette,
The Flesh Eaters,
Television,
David Axelrod,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.