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 Kyrgyzstan 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Al Stewart to the grime 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ohio Players,
Pulsallama,
The Happenings,
The Real Kids,
Clear Light,
The Associates,
Franke,
Supertramp,
the Germs,
Kurtis Blow,
Popol Vuh,
Wasted Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quadrant,
Kenny Larkin,
Cybotron,
David Axelrod,
Panda Bear,
Alison Limerick,
The Electric Prunes,
In Retrospect,
Roxette,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bronski Beat,
Can,
Duran Duran,
Dave Gahan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yellowson,
Jeff Lynne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
EPMD,
Minny Pops,
Max Romeo,
Barclay James Harvest,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Schoolly D,
X-102,
Circle Jerks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Desert Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cowsills,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Parrish,
F. McDonald,
The Cramps,
Lakeside,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ronnie Foster,
Hashim,
Frankie Knuckles,
Underground Resistance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Shuggie Otis,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.