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 Nicaragua and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
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 Michael McDonald 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 Depeche Mode to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stereo Dub,
Eric Dolphy,
Derrick Morgan,
Magma,
The Angels of Light,
Con Funk Shun,
The Real Kids,
Supertramp,
Don Cherry,
Liliput,
Erasure,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fugazi,
The Barracudas,
Harry Pussy,
E-Dancer,
Eli Mardock,
Tears for Fears,
Lungfish,
The Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joe Finger,
The Doobie Brothers,
Maleditus Sound,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Cell,
Nico,
Hoover,
Sarah Menescal,
Roger Hodgson,
Lyres,
Skriet,
Reuben Wilson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warsaw,
Deepchord,
Joyce Sims,
Black Moon,
The Pretty Things,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roxette,
Anakelly,
Rod Modell,
The Cramps,
Easy Going,
Faraquet,
Audionom,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oneida,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed,
Babytalk,
The Trojans,
Laurel Aitken,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.