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 Laos and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Harry Pussy to the crunk 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jacques Brel,
The Saints,
Severed Heads,
Pylon,
Japan,
Aloha Tigers,
Heaven 17,
La Düsseldorf,
Stereo Dub,
The Invisible,
Harry Pussy,
Mary Jane Girls,
ABC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scientists,
John Holt,
The Fortunes,
Crime,
the Sonics,
ABBA,
The Monks,
X-101,
The Divine Comedy,
Underground Resistance,
FM Einheit,
Chris Corsano,
The Offenders,
Zapp,
DJ Style,
The Red Krayola,
Aaron Thompson,
Janne Schatter,
Inner City,
The Birthday Party,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Faust,
Marc Almond,
The Names,
Eric Dolphy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Victims,
The Move,
Skriet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pet Shop Boys,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sällskapet,
Camouflage,
This Heat,
Panda Bear,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dual Sessions,
The Blues Magoos,
Das Ding,
Ralphi Rosario,
Franke,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.