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 Turkmenistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar 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 Subhumans 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Arcadia,
Bronski Beat,
The Fugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mars,
Carl Craig,
F. McDonald,
X-102,
Nation of Ulysses,
Organ,
Sun City Girls,
The Kinks,
Derrick Morgan,
The Slits,
Cybotron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Hood,
Urselle,
Jacob Miller,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kurtis Blow,
Nik Kershaw,
Jerry's Kids,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Index,
Fluxion,
Heaven 17,
Dark Day,
These Immortal Souls,
The Moody Blues,
Peter and Kerry,
Nick Fraelich,
Boredoms,
Fela Kuti,
Porter Ricks,
Tom Boy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alphaville,
The Barracudas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Banda Bassotti,
Au Pairs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Malaria!,
Eurythmics,
Gong,
Cal Tjader,
Ituana,
Reuben Wilson,
Procol Harum,
Franke,
Desert Stars,
Aural Exciters,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.