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 France and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mr. Review to the grime 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Steve Hackett,
Eric Copeland,
The Modern Lovers,
Quando Quango,
Sam Rivers,
Lindisfarne,
A Certain Ratio,
The Names,
Newcleus,
In Retrospect,
The Moleskins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Traffic Nightmare,
Royal Trux,
Unrelated Segments,
The Music Machine,
Ken Boothe,
The Star Department,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Animal Collective,
Porter Ricks,
Soul II Soul,
Marc Almond,
Maurizio,
Minutemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Second Layer,
U.S. Maple,
Faraquet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amazonics,
Alison Limerick,
Kerri Chandler,
Subhumans,
Marine Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Kenny Larkin,
Sugar Minott,
Matthew Bourne,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers,
Magma,
Glenn Branca,
Drexciya,
The Pop Group,
Gang Green,
Wally Richardson,
The Fuzztones,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bad Manners,
The Angels of Light,
World's Most,
Gichy Dan,
Alton Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Piero Umiliani,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grey Daturas,
Jacob Miller,
Nick Fraelich,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.