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 Seychelles and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Michael McDonald 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 New Age Steppers to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Echospace,
Electric Prunes,
Oblivians,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joey Negro,
T. Rex,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Funkadelic,
Cluster,
Swell Maps,
Section 25,
Nas,
The Sonics,
Tubeway Army,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scion,
Guru Guru,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fortunes,
A Certain Ratio,
The Five Americans,
Lungfish,
The Moleskins,
Delon & Dalcan,
R.M.O.,
The Buckinghams,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed,
Darondo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Patti Smith,
Visage,
Man Parrish,
Eric Copeland,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Searchers,
Ponytail,
Mission of Burma,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lyres,
Nik Kershaw,
The Selecter,
48th St. Collective,
Juan Atkins,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hot Snakes,
Ultra Naté,
Amazonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tim Buckley,
The Smoke,
Mr. Review,
Altered Images,
U.S. Maple,
The Pop Group,
Ituana,
Black Flag,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.