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 Mongolia and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ 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 Boz Scaggs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Swell Maps,
Scion,
the Fania All-Stars,
EPMD,
Accadde A,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Soft Cell,
Country Teasers,
The Associates,
The Evens,
Second Layer,
The Martian,
The Gories,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Kinks,
Lyres,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Gap Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
These Immortal Souls,
LL Cool J,
UT,
Joensuu 1685,
Pole,
The Divine Comedy,
The Happenings,
Janne Schatter,
Fatback Band,
Sister Nancy,
Rekid,
Gil Scott Heron,
Suburban Knight,
Scratch Acid,
Bill Near,
Ultravox,
kango's stein massive,
Clear Light,
Kas Product,
The Golliwogs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gabor Szabo,
Swans,
Zero Boys,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cheater Slicks,
Interpol,
Danielle Patucci,
Yazoo,
Michelle Simonal,
Eric Copeland,
Ken Boothe,
Camouflage,
James White and The Blacks,
Supertramp,
Sparks,
Flash Fearless,
Chrome,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.