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 Afghanistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Spandau Ballet to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Terry Callier,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Raincoats,
One Last Wish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roxy Music,
Deepchord,
The Sound,
Quantec,
Chris & Cosey,
Nik Kershaw,
the Bar-Kays,
Underground Resistance,
L. Decosne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Alison Limerick,
Reagan Youth,
The Kinks,
Arcadia,
Quando Quango,
Pulsallama,
Zapp,
Masters at Work,
Shuggie Otis,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Funky Four + One,
David McCallum,
Khruangbin,
Adolescents,
Hardrive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Main Source,
The Sonics,
Jeru the Damaja,
The New Christs,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Real Kids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moby Grape,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gories,
Sam Rivers,
Bootsy Collins,
Lyres,
These Immortal Souls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harry Pussy,
D'Angelo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rakim,
The Last Poets,
Half Japanese,
Ronnie Foster,
H. Thieme,
Jeff Lynne,
Dark Day,
Sun City Girls,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.