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 United States and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 EPMD to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ten City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sandy B,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Angels of Light,
The Smoke,
Mars,
Chrome,
the Sonics,
Youth Brigade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Zero Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
World's Most,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Motions,
Chris & Cosey,
Fluxion,
Joy Division,
Dead Boys,
Erasure,
New York Dolls,
One Last Wish,
Metal Thangz,
Michelle Simonal,
The Real Kids,
Malaria!,
Crooked Eye,
Sam Rivers,
Oblivians,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Modern Lovers,
Animal Collective,
Lebanon Hanover,
DJ Sneak,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sun City Girls,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
A Certain Ratio,
Q65,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Organ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Don Cherry,
Swans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tim Buckley,
Section 25,
Dual Sessions,
The Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Womack,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bluetip,
a-ha,
Make Up,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.