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 Mozambique and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 These Immortal Souls to the grime 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Lyres,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Masters at Work,
Agent Orange,
The Fire Engines,
The Wake,
Q and Not U,
Soft Cell,
Warsaw,
Rapeman,
Rufus Thomas,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Raincoats,
The Neon Judgement,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Half Japanese,
Goldenarms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Residents,
Massinfluence,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Television Personalities,
Circle Jerks,
Audionom,
R.M.O.,
The Dirtbombs,
T.S.O.L.,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Birthday Party,
Grey Daturas,
Deepchord,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül,
Suicide,
The Evens,
Scrapy,
Tubeway Army,
Skriet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crooked Eye,
The Invisible,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Mummies,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hardrive,
Das Ding,
Fear,
Morten Harket,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crash Course in Science,
The Walker Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Divine Comedy,
Liliput,
Theoretical Girls,
Heaven 17,
Black Pus,
Lakeside,
The Toasters,
The Happenings,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.