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 Canada and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the crunk 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple 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 rock 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Qualms,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fugs,
The Misunderstood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aaron Thompson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Los Fastidios,
Q and Not U,
Delta 5,
Bob Dylan,
June of 44,
Yellowson,
Ponytail,
Quantec,
Robert Wyatt,
Heaven 17,
Ohio Players,
Malaria!,
Procol Harum,
Connie Case,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Johnny Clarke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Trumans Water,
The Fortunes,
Minnie Riperton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tim Buckley,
Godley & Creme,
The Knickerbockers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deadbeat,
The Smoke,
Derrick May,
John Lydon,
Basic Channel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Searchers,
Pierre Henry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Clear Light,
Tom Boy,
Supertramp,
Average White Band,
Roxy Music,
Terry Callier,
Bill Near,
Shoche,
Desert Stars,
Y Pants,
Althea and Donna,
FM Einheit,
Tommy Roe,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.