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 Haiti and from Jakarta.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Erasure to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
The Last Poets,
Kaleidoscope,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rod Modell,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Theoretical Girls,
The Buckinghams,
Stiv Bators,
Darondo,
Symarip,
Hasil Adkins,
Roxy Music,
Henry Cow,
Grauzone,
The Red Krayola,
Gong,
New York Dolls,
The Remains,
T. Rex,
Wasted Youth,
Supertramp,
Scion,
Lucky Dragons,
Sixth Finger,
Scan 7,
Tom Boy,
Altered Images,
Gang Gang Dance,
Monks,
Joensuu 1685,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arthur Verocai,
Hardrive,
Smog,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Can,
Lightning Bolt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Silicon Teens,
Ossler,
New Order,
Fugazi,
The Neon Judgement,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Royal Trux,
B.T. Express,
Morten Harket,
Wally Richardson,
The Seeds,
Aaron Thompson,
Ronan,
Ituana,
Duran Duran,
Throbbing Gristle,
Los Fastidios,
The Stooges,
Rites of Spring,
Harry Pussy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.