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 Houston.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Dave Gahan to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Motions,
Graham Central Station,
Radio Birdman,
Sparks,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
David Axelrod,
The Leaves,
Shuggie Otis,
the Association,
Inner City,
Gichy Dan,
The Divine Comedy,
Iggy Pop,
The Cure,
Lungfish,
Japan,
The Real Kids,
UT,
Pylon,
CMW,
Tubeway Army,
John Cale,
Deepchord,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sandy B,
The Red Krayola,
Moby Grape,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultimate Spinach,
Traffic Nightmare,
Man Parrish,
Flipper,
Eli Mardock,
Vainqueur,
John Holt,
The Smoke,
June of 44,
The Vogues,
Mission of Burma,
Piero Umiliani,
Suburban Knight,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gun Club,
The Monks,
The Cowsills,
Model 500,
Jerry's Kids,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swans,
Visage,
Lightning Bolt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aloha Tigers,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.