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 Malaysia and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Quando Quango to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Jacques Brel,
Jacob Miller,
Aloha Tigers,
Excepter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sixth Finger,
The Five Americans,
MC5,
Slave,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Last Poets,
Max Romeo,
Wings,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
MDC,
Kaleidoscope,
Babytalk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Camberwell Now,
Mad Mike,
Lyres,
The Mojo Men,
Bang On A Can,
Echospace,
DNA,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Almond,
Monolake,
Crispian St. Peters,
Drexciya,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Skatalites,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gabor Szabo,
The Young Rascals,
Avey Tare,
Marmalade,
Pharoah Sanders,
Main Source,
Bill Near,
Television Personalities,
Bush Tetras,
Second Layer,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sam Rivers,
Sight & Sound,
The Standells,
Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Robert Görl,
Barbara Tucker,
Quadrant,
Joe Smooth,
Amazonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Au Pairs,
The Associates,
New York Dolls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.