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 Laos and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Saccharine Trust to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Warren Ellis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bauhaus,
Junior Murvin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Unrelated Segments,
Piero Umiliani,
UT,
Ornette Coleman,
Brass Construction,
Youth Brigade,
Arab on Radar,
Steve Hackett,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stereo Dub,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Names,
the Soft Cell,
Deepchord,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harmonia,
Young Marble Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
Mark Hollis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Monks,
Grauzone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Janne Schatter,
The Martian,
The Birthday Party,
Animal Collective,
Fear,
Boz Scaggs,
Sarah Menescal,
Infiniti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ralphi Rosario,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pussy Galore,
Donny Hathaway,
JFA,
Robert Görl,
The Selecter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eurythmics,
Clear Light,
It's A Beautiful Day,
10cc,
PIL,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Durutti Column,
Maurizio,
Bill Wells,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bronski Beat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Foxx,
Cecil Taylor,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.