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 Portugal and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Patti Smith to the crunk 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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Skaos,
David McCallum,
Matthew Bourne,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Moon,
The Pretty Things,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Maleditus Sound,
Altered Images,
Amon Düül,
Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brothers Johnson,
Nico,
Laurel Aitken,
Slave,
Connie Case,
Radio Birdman,
Moebius,
Bootsy Collins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Don Cherry,
Pussy Galore,
June Days,
Groovy Waters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultravox,
Newcleus,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Clarke,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Silicon Teens,
James White and The Blacks,
The Birthday Party,
Bobby Sherman,
Freddie Wadling,
Niagra,
The Victims,
Aaron Thompson,
Livin' Joy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Little Man,
Zero Boys,
Make Up,
The Gun Club,
The Smiths,
Crime,
Max Romeo,
This Heat,
The Mummies,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dave Gahan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cecil Taylor,
Bush Tetras,
Q65,
Hardrive,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.