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 Niger and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Outsiders to the dance 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Human League,
Magazine,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Walker Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Count Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Neu!,
Mars,
Jeff Lynne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wolf Eyes,
Theoretical Girls,
Suburban Knight,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
Jacob Miller,
Desert Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cameo,
Youth Brigade,
Country Teasers,
Bill Near,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Little Man,
The J.B.'s,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flipper,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wire,
Hasil Adkins,
Quando Quango,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Robert Hood,
Robert Görl,
Q65,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Standells,
Stiv Bators,
Black Sheep,
John Cale,
Liliput,
Vainqueur,
The Fortunes,
Grauzone,
E-Dancer,
Zapp,
The Misunderstood,
The Martian,
Archie Shepp,
Rekid,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pulsallama,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.