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 Azerbaijan and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the dance 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne 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?
Spoonie Gee,
Sound Behaviour,
The Trojans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dorothy Ashby,
Maurizio,
David Bowie,
Peter & Gordon,
Duran Duran,
Cecil Taylor,
The Angels of Light,
Masters at Work,
The Gap Band,
Godley & Creme,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tom Boy,
F. McDonald,
Dave Gahan,
Cheater Slicks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sarah Menescal,
the Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
Minor Threat,
Yaz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Magazine,
Letta Mbulu,
Sugar Minott,
Bush Tetras,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Kinks,
Sällskapet,
Ultravox,
Kenny Larkin,
Ken Boothe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Severed Heads,
Surgeon,
Zapp,
Dark Day,
T. Rex,
Morten Harket,
Juan Atkins,
Prince Buster,
Chris & Cosey,
June Days,
Barrington Levy,
Skarface,
The Gories,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Depeche Mode,
The Offenders,
Simply Red,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marmalade,
Leonard Cohen,
Steve Hackett,
Yellowson,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.