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 China and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Blossom Toes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Man Parrish,
Moby Grape,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Basic Channel,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fall,
Rotary Connection,
the Normal,
Sandy B,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cure,
Cymande,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hardrive,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hoover,
Babytalk,
MC5,
Franke,
Lalann,
The Invisible,
Funky Four + One,
Desert Stars,
The Slits,
Byron Stingily,
Marmalade,
Chris & Cosey,
Graham Central Station,
Heaven 17,
The Moody Blues,
Television,
The Gladiators,
Thompson Twins,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Pop Group,
Black Moon,
Ken Boothe,
The Zeros,
The Gap Band,
the Association,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Depeche Mode,
Panda Bear,
Suburban Knight,
Harry Pussy,
Kerri Chandler,
Talk Talk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
One Last Wish,
The Offenders,
Joy Division,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tears for Fears,
The Gories,
Roger Hodgson,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.