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 Maldives and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Moss Icon,
The Fall,
Iggy Pop,
Aural Exciters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mary Jane Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
Arcadia,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Absolute Body Control,
Henry Cow,
Bush Tetras,
The Sonics,
Blancmange,
The Five Americans,
Gabor Szabo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Franke,
The Litter,
The Angels of Light,
Ponytail,
Grauzone,
Skarface,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Move,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stereo Dub,
Trumans Water,
Brick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roger Hodgson,
DNA,
Cameo,
The Gap Band,
Tomorrow,
The Misunderstood,
Y Pants,
the Sonics,
Tommy Roe,
Dual Sessions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Agitation Free,
This Heat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scott Walker,
cv313,
The Fuzztones,
Alice Coltrane,
the Human League,
Desert Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Flash Fearless,
Massinfluence,
The Tremeloes,
Yazoo,
Prince Buster,
Shuggie Otis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.