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 Burkina and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Real Kids to the crunk 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ken Boothe,
The Velvet Underground,
Michelle Simonal,
Scrapy,
Spandau Ballet,
The Tremeloes,
The Gories,
The Toasters,
Skarface,
Tom Boy,
Ice-T,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lalann,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Bananas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Spoonie Gee,
Lalo Schifrin,
Suicide,
Bluetip,
Subhumans,
ABC,
Animal Collective,
Rod Modell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Seeds,
Dark Day,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Derrick May,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Smoke,
Roger Hodgson,
Al Stewart,
Qualms,
Supertramp,
The Leaves,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Blues Magoos,
Sällskapet,
Ronan,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
48th St. Collective,
The Grass Roots,
The Mojo Men,
Cymande,
UT,
KRS-One,
The Move,
Funky Four + One,
New York Dolls,
The Doobie Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
Henry Cow,
Pere Ubu,
The Litter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mandrill,
Livin' Joy,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.