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 Nicaragua and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tres Demented to the rock 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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,
the Association,
The Grass Roots,
Visage,
Warsaw,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Wake,
The American Breed,
Camouflage,
Whodini,
The United States of America,
T. Rex,
Skriet,
Dead Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Sugar Minott,
The Selecter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Junior Murvin,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Martian,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang of Four,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Invisible,
Public Image Ltd.,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Christie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Television,
The Happenings,
Michelle Simonal,
Archie Shepp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Das Ding,
La Düsseldorf,
The Vogues,
The Busters,
Stereo Dub,
Neu!,
Soul Sonic Force,
Deakin,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cowsills,
Mr. Review,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
Tubeway Army,
The Evens,
Youth Brigade,
The Five Americans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Quantec,
China Crisis,
John Holt,
Swell Maps,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.