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 Papua New Guinea and from Woodstock.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Q and Not U,
Deepchord,
Jacques Brel,
Grauzone,
Ituana,
The Gap Band,
Lyres,
Camberwell Now,
Tim Buckley,
Ralphi Rosario,
B.T. Express,
The Mummies,
Rapeman,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Count Five,
Ronan,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
The Five Americans,
Mo-Dettes,
Amon Düül,
Minnie Riperton,
Royal Trux,
Echospace,
Rosa Yemen,
Davy DMX,
the Swans,
Eric Copeland,
Talk Talk,
T.S.O.L.,
Bang On A Can,
Joe Finger,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ten City,
Audionom,
Alice Coltrane,
Wire,
Mr. Review,
Reuben Wilson,
Marvin Gaye,
Robert Hood,
Bluetip,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang Green,
Symarip,
Inner City,
Thompson Twins,
Con Funk Shun,
The Saints,
Janne Schatter,
The Pop Group,
Shuggie Otis,
David Bowie,
Aswad,
Marcia Griffiths,
Outsiders,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.