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 Tanzania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Slackers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
E-Dancer,
Tommy Roe,
Traffic Nightmare,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grey Daturas,
Kas Product,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Surgeon,
Kayak,
The Offenders,
Intrusion,
Newcleus,
Soul II Soul,
Sarah Menescal,
The Saints,
Eurythmics,
John Foxx,
Junior Murvin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hoover,
Ituana,
Dave Gahan,
The Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
a-ha,
Little Man,
Joensuu 1685,
Mo-Dettes,
H. Thieme,
The Beau Brummels,
Mission of Burma,
The United States of America,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric Copeland,
The Cosmic Jokers,
U.S. Maple,
Au Pairs,
Depeche Mode,
Delta 5,
Monolake,
The Searchers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The American Breed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Victims,
Eve St. Jones,
Arab on Radar,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fortunes,
Oneida,
the Slits,
Warren Ellis,
Visage,
Slave,
DJ Sneak,
Talk Talk,
The Moleskins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.