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 Tunisia and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Stiv Bators 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
The New Christs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cameo,
Scientists,
Joe Smooth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hasil Adkins,
Echospace,
Jesper Dahlback,
T. Rex,
Jeff Lynne,
The Smoke,
Vainqueur,
Saccharine Trust,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Prince Buster,
Technova,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Sheep,
Eddi Front,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes,
Barbara Tucker,
Derrick May,
Black Pus,
Little Man,
Lyres,
Bootsy Collins,
Lower 48,
Von Mondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eve St. Jones,
Popol Vuh,
Moebius,
The Count Five,
The Zeros,
Bobby Womack,
Scratch Acid,
Masters at Work,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fatback Band,
Lindisfarne,
Soulsonic Force,
Youth Brigade,
The Wake,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
Godley & Creme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Victims,
Davy DMX,
The Searchers,
Maurizio,
Yaz,
Procol Harum,
The American Breed,
Royal Trux,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.