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 Belarus and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Birthday Party to the rock 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
Steve Hackett,
Icehouse,
Subhumans,
The Wake,
Tom Boy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Index,
The Dirtbombs,
Nirvana,
June Days,
Procol Harum,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Almond,
Danielle Patucci,
Qualms,
The Monks,
Pylon,
The Fire Engines,
The Standells,
Metal Thangz,
DNA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roxy Music,
Derrick Morgan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Al Stewart,
Babytalk,
cv313,
Ituana,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yellowson,
Morten Harket,
John Holt,
Kaleidoscope,
Rapeman,
Lower 48,
The Pop Group,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Talk Talk,
a-ha,
Scott Walker,
Rekid,
Symarip,
Monolake,
Brand Nubian,
E-Dancer,
Mr. Review,
FM Einheit,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Vogues,
The Dead C,
DJ Style,
Andrew Hill,
Monks,
Goldenarms,
the Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Sandy B,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Parrish,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.