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 Haiti and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 Metal Thangz to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
John Holt,
Ornette Coleman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monks,
Dead Boys,
E-Dancer,
Scion,
Wings,
Television,
New Order,
The Offenders,
Ten City,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Yaz,
Jeff Lynne,
Patti Smith,
Flash Fearless,
Sister Nancy,
Ken Boothe,
Con Funk Shun,
Shuggie Otis,
Morten Harket,
Pylon,
Mary Jane Girls,
LL Cool J,
Unrelated Segments,
Whodini,
The Pop Group,
Bootsy Collins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arab on Radar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
La Düsseldorf,
Sugar Minott,
Matthew Bourne,
U.S. Maple,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Warsaw,
Tommy Roe,
Crispy Ambulance,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alice Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
Spoonie Gee,
Crash Course in Science,
Mars,
Piero Umiliani,
Michelle Simonal,
Josef K,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
David McCallum,
Oblivians,
Average White Band,
Barry Ungar,
Sandy B,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.