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 Macedonia and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ 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 The Blues Magoos to the techno 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
New York Dolls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-101,
Tim Buckley,
Scratch Acid,
Dual Sessions,
Quadrant,
The New Christs,
Donny Hathaway,
The Selecter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Qualms,
Gong,
Bobby Womack,
CMW,
Mr. Review,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fuzztones,
Quando Quango,
Japan,
the Normal,
The Invisible,
James White and The Blacks,
EPMD,
The Barracudas,
Bill Near,
Public Enemy,
Faust,
DNA,
Ralphi Rosario,
Half Japanese,
Andrew Hill,
The Cramps,
Piero Umiliani,
Matthew Bourne,
Blake Baxter,
Radio Birdman,
Yusef Lateef,
The United States of America,
Nick Fraelich,
Parry Music,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Index,
Darondo,
Tommy Roe,
Moebius,
Charles Mingus,
Oneida,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Golliwogs,
Los Fastidios,
Cluster,
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sonics,
The Skatalites,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.