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 Switzerland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 Barclay James Harvest to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
The Monks,
Albert Ayler,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sound,
Delta 5,
Kerri Chandler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Motions,
Judy Mowatt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Whodini,
Pulsallama,
Ohio Players,
Yazoo,
The American Breed,
Subhumans,
Oblivians,
Quantec,
Tom Boy,
Model 500,
La Düsseldorf,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Electric Prunes,
Thompson Twins,
Sonic Youth,
The J.B.'s,
Black Pus,
The Toasters,
LL Cool J,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Count Five,
The Moleskins,
Bronski Beat,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Youth Brigade,
Maurizio,
Anakelly,
Peter & Gordon,
The Move,
Hashim,
Sam Rivers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Bananas,
Nirvana,
Bill Wells,
Quando Quango,
Flipper,
Bobby Womack,
The Associates,
Harpers Bizarre,
Smog,
Radio Birdman,
Sister Nancy,
John Coltrane,
Alice Coltrane,
Little Man,
Underground Resistance,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.