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 Cambodia and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the snare 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 The Gun Club to the grunge 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Flipper,
Technova,
Buzzcocks,
The Gladiators,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stockholm Monsters,
Isaac Hayes,
H. Thieme,
Nik Kershaw,
Absolute Body Control,
John Foxx,
New Age Steppers,
The Cure,
Massinfluence,
The Modern Lovers,
Blancmange,
The Smiths,
Crime,
Gang Starr,
Gang of Four,
Roxy Music,
Dave Gahan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Metal Thangz,
Country Teasers,
Ultra Naté,
Negative Approach,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eli Mardock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soft Cell,
The Seeds,
Minny Pops,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Star Department,
The Music Machine,
The Cramps,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Banda Bassotti,
Masters at Work,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gun Club,
Quando Quango,
X-102,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Mummies,
Trumans Water,
Yaz,
In Retrospect,
Japan,
Gichy Dan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mark Hollis,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Byrd,
Television,
Neil Young,
Eden Ahbez,
Saccharine Trust,
Porter Ricks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Guru Guru,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.