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 St Kitts & Nevis and from London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Mary Jane Girls to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Pere Ubu,
the Soft Cell,
Deadbeat,
The Young Rascals,
Suburban Knight,
Camberwell Now,
Don Cherry,
Little Man,
Yazoo,
Dark Day,
David McCallum,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Infiniti,
Robert Görl,
The Selecter,
The Cure,
The United States of America,
Alison Limerick,
The Velvet Underground,
Roxette,
Lou Christie,
Steve Hackett,
X-101,
Country Teasers,
Barrington Levy,
Lalann,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fall,
Quando Quango,
Nik Kershaw,
Popol Vuh,
Boz Scaggs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quantec,
Massinfluence,
Ralphi Rosario,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Cale,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amon Düül,
Henry Cow,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marc Almond,
Mantronix,
Masters at Work,
Inner City,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Bar-Kays,
Magazine,
The Divine Comedy,
Sandy B,
The Litter,
Moss Icon,
The Durutti Column,
Isaac Hayes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barbara Tucker,
Simply Red,
Icehouse,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.