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 Qatar and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Trumans Water to the rock 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Electric Prunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crash Course in Science,
Barry Ungar,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Reagan Youth,
Desert Stars,
Sugar Minott,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scratch Acid,
Scion,
Bill Wells,
KRS-One,
Lalo Schifrin,
Surgeon,
Pussy Galore,
The Selecter,
Hasil Adkins,
the Association,
Camouflage,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter & Gordon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Warsaw,
The Searchers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Starr,
Black Flag,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Henry Cow,
Zero Boys,
The Fugs,
Boredoms,
Scrapy,
Roxy Music,
PIL,
Piero Umiliani,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Supertramp,
Q and Not U,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang of Four,
Urselle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ken Boothe,
James White and The Blacks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Detroit Cobras,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Interpol,
Panda Bear,
Juan Atkins,
Flipper,
The Names,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.