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 Hungary and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum 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 The Dirtbombs to the crunk 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Nico,
Sister Nancy,
Unwound,
Kerri Chandler,
Quantec,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lou Christie,
The Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
JFA,
The Gories,
Slick Rick,
The Count Five,
Fad Gadget,
The Doobie Brothers,
Con Funk Shun,
Alison Limerick,
Can,
Stetsasonic,
Juan Atkins,
The Walker Brothers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sarah Menescal,
Roger Hodgson,
Agitation Free,
The Wake,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Sherman,
The Saints,
Tres Demented,
Dead Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
The Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
Heaven 17,
The Last Poets,
X-Ray Spex,
DNA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rites of Spring,
Monolake,
Yazoo,
Scratch Acid,
Skaos,
The Motions,
Nik Kershaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Underground Resistance,
The Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lindisfarne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reagan Youth,
U.S. Maple,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Goldenarms,
Erykah Badu,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.