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 Guinea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grunge 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Fluxion,
Alton Ellis,
Hoover,
Quadrant,
Ultra Naté,
Marmalade,
Jacques Brel,
Sixth Finger,
Wasted Youth,
Andrew Hill,
Franke,
Black Bananas,
Amazonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Toasters,
Altered Images,
Mantronix,
Oblivians,
Infiniti,
Byron Stingily,
Deakin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Leonard Cohen,
Sex Pistols,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lindisfarne,
Malaria!,
the Sonics,
Sällskapet,
Scrapy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bronski Beat,
The Red Krayola,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
48th St. Collective,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ossler,
New Order,
Matthew Halsall,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Christie,
Lightning Bolt,
Carl Craig,
The Moody Blues,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Liliput,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barbara Tucker,
CMW,
The Blackbyrds,
The Smoke,
A Certain Ratio,
Throbbing Gristle,
Newcleus,
The Misunderstood,
Niagra,
The Cure,
Symarip,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.