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 New Zealand and from Hong Kong.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Barclay James Harvest to the electroclash 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Television,
Scrapy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Reed,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Von Mondo,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Womack,
B.T. Express,
Agent Orange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Camberwell Now,
Lungfish,
Eli Mardock,
The Residents,
The Happenings,
Deepchord,
The Standells,
Peter & Gordon,
Robert Hood,
Gong,
Gerry Rafferty,
K-Klass,
The Fall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fear,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rufus Thomas,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Count Five,
a-ha,
Los Fastidios,
Scientists,
The Beau Brummels,
AZ,
Henry Cow,
OOIOO,
Patti Smith,
Erasure,
The Divine Comedy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Golliwogs,
Accadde A,
Lebanon Hanover,
Excepter,
Little Man,
Stereo Dub,
Young Marble Giants,
Gang Green,
Warren Ellis,
The United States of America,
Eden Ahbez,
Buzzcocks,
Reuben Wilson,
Sonic Youth,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Quando Quango,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.