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 Kosovo 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Cheater Slicks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
New Age Steppers,
The Velvet Underground,
Robert Görl,
Graham Central Station,
The Leaves,
Lalann,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fortunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Subhumans,
Flipper,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
a-ha,
Los Fastidios,
Toni Rubio,
Isaac Hayes,
Heaven 17,
Barrington Levy,
Joy Division,
Grauzone,
The Star Department,
Bluetip,
Japan,
Amon Düül,
Angry Samoans,
Monolake,
Ultimate Spinach,
Arthur Verocai,
Tom Boy,
Ponytail,
PIL,
Royal Trux,
Gregory Isaacs,
Erasure,
Hot Snakes,
Aaron Thompson,
FM Einheit,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maurizio,
Lou Christie,
The Knickerbockers,
Sixth Finger,
Fela Kuti,
Sexual Harrassment,
Severed Heads,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Moon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Black Dice,
The Electric Prunes,
Dawn Penn,
The Divine Comedy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Y Pants,
Symarip,
Terry Callier,
The American Breed,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.