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 Kazakhstan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Young Rascals to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
The Moleskins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Motorama,
Metal Thangz,
Clear Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blake Baxter,
Circle Jerks,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Offenders,
Mandrill,
The Sound,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joey Negro,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Isaac Hayes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Spandau Ballet,
Goldenarms,
Tears for Fears,
The Slackers,
Japan,
The Gories,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Sonics,
Eddi Front,
Gang of Four,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sister Nancy,
In Retrospect,
Icehouse,
Trumans Water,
Model 500,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dave Clark Five,
T. Rex,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television Personalities,
The Barracudas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Leonard Cohen,
The Walker Brothers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Derrick May,
Mr. Review,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fire Engines,
Symarip,
Pulsallama,
Deadbeat,
Lakeside,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Standells,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sonic Youth,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.