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 Kuwait and from Mumbai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Iggy Pop to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Lightning Bolt,
Minutemen,
The Happenings,
Kaleidoscope,
The Wake,
Mark Hollis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lakeside,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sex Pistols,
Piero Umiliani,
Juan Atkins,
Quando Quango,
Rod Modell,
Gichy Dan,
Joey Negro,
Scott Walker,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alison Limerick,
Rakim,
Public Image Ltd.,
B.T. Express,
Reuben Wilson,
Schoolly D,
Can,
La Düsseldorf,
Sparks,
Roxy Music,
Q and Not U,
Peter and Kerry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dave Gahan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stiv Bators,
Camouflage,
Deakin,
Joyce Sims,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dual Sessions,
Ronan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The American Breed,
the Germs,
Jandek,
Circle Jerks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Subhumans,
Bobby Womack,
Mars,
Vainqueur,
The Skatalites,
Organ,
Eve St. Jones,
the Human League,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rosa Yemen,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.