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 Spain and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Bang On A Can to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
The United States of America,
Qualms,
Lou Reed,
The Doors,
X-Ray Spex,
Faust,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ponytail,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Moody Blues,
The Modern Lovers,
Ituana,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Livin' Joy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rakim,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Mills,
Parry Music,
Ohio Players,
Nas,
The Last Poets,
Banda Bassotti,
Quando Quango,
Cameo,
The Saints,
Rites of Spring,
OOIOO,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Black Dice,
The Dirtbombs,
The Pretty Things,
The Grass Roots,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Liliput,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lalann,
Camberwell Now,
CMW,
Barrington Levy,
Pierre Henry,
The Count Five,
Suburban Knight,
Delta 5,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tomorrow,
Jeff Lynne,
The Buckinghams,
Neil Young,
Clear Light,
the Sonics,
Hoover,
The Victims,
The Pop Group,
Leonard Cohen,
This Heat,
FM Einheit,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.