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 St Lucia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes 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 Faraquet to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Davy DMX,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Music Machine,
Arcadia,
Hot Snakes,
Bill Near,
Young Marble Giants,
Mad Mike,
The Sonics,
Sonic Youth,
K-Klass,
Ultra Naté,
Amon Düül,
Juan Atkins,
Sister Nancy,
The Mummies,
Cymande,
Gregory Isaacs,
David Axelrod,
Fatback Band,
Gang of Four,
Michelle Simonal,
Magma,
Roger Hodgson,
the Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
Marmalade,
Los Fastidios,
F. McDonald,
Alice Coltrane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Swell Maps,
Pagans,
The Skatalites,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Althea and Donna,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Motorama,
June of 44,
The Slits,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dead Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Joyce Sims,
OOIOO,
the Soft Cell,
The Remains,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Smog,
Tres Demented,
Henry Cow,
Patti Smith,
Robert Hood,
The Vogues,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.