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 Egypt and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Shadows of Knight to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Matthew Halsall,
Quando Quango,
Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
The Litter,
Bill Near,
Peter & Gordon,
Intrusion,
Bob Dylan,
Brothers Johnson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Moss Icon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Remains,
Mad Mike,
The Misunderstood,
Surgeon,
The Tremeloes,
DNA,
The Beau Brummels,
Sex Pistols,
Rosa Yemen,
Trumans Water,
Yusef Lateef,
The Angels of Light,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Red Krayola,
The Dead C,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Bar-Kays,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Duran Duran,
KRS-One,
The Human League,
Boredoms,
Pere Ubu,
Cluster,
Ponytail,
Von Mondo,
The Pop Group,
Oblivians,
New Order,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Frankie Knuckles,
Excepter,
Man Parrish,
Metal Thangz,
Althea and Donna,
Stetsasonic,
Lucky Dragons,
The Searchers,
Amazonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.