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 East Timor and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin 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 Donny Hathaway to the jazz 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Heaven 17,
The American Breed,
Cymande,
Mark Hollis,
Sparks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Organ,
The Cowsills,
Alton Ellis,
The Gories,
Loose Ends,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Moebius,
Eli Mardock,
Kerrie Biddell,
Howard Jones,
Half Japanese,
Oblivians,
Bobby Sherman,
Simply Red,
H. Thieme,
Swell Maps,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tears for Fears,
New York Dolls,
Ultravox,
Eden Ahbez,
Smog,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camouflage,
Idris Muhammad,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DNA,
Blake Baxter,
Ossler,
Kayak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
OOIOO,
China Crisis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doors,
Surgeon,
Sun Ra,
Black Moon,
Joy Division,
Grauzone,
The Real Kids,
Reuben Wilson,
Joyce Sims,
The Red Krayola,
The Divine Comedy,
Unwound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roger Hodgson,
Faust,
Sam Rivers,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.