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 Grenada and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Desert Stars to the rock 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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Ice-T,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wally Richardson,
Infiniti,
Frankie Knuckles,
Goldenarms,
Rites of Spring,
Qualms,
K-Klass,
Eden Ahbez,
Joy Division,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Görl,
Pagans,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Khruangbin,
Symarip,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Darondo,
The Kinks,
Stiv Bators,
Soulsonic Force,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Y Pants,
The Doobie Brothers,
B.T. Express,
Jawbox,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Red Krayola,
Bronski Beat,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Byrd,
Agitation Free,
a-ha,
The American Breed,
This Heat,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Soul II Soul,
Bauhaus,
Niagra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Audionom,
The Gladiators,
The Offenders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jesper Dahlback,
10cc,
Matthew Bourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rakim,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eddi Front,
Loose Ends,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.