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 Somalia and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Oneida to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Au Pairs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boredoms,
Ten City,
Prince Buster,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
the Bar-Kays,
Average White Band,
David Bowie,
Barrington Levy,
Newcleus,
Index,
The Misunderstood,
The American Breed,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Desert Stars,
AZ,
Lucky Dragons,
Tears for Fears,
Johnny Clarke,
The Selecter,
Pagans,
Tim Buckley,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Bourne,
Fad Gadget,
Morten Harket,
The Tremeloes,
Reuben Wilson,
Idris Muhammad,
The Remains,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deepchord,
Fluxion,
Young Marble Giants,
Duran Duran,
Sonic Youth,
Moebius,
Electric Prunes,
The Monks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blake Baxter,
Stetsasonic,
Lalo Schifrin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-101,
Reagan Youth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radio Birdman,
Magma,
Moby Grape,
Siglo XX,
Donny Hathaway,
Ohio Players,
Eve St. Jones,
Albert Ayler,
The Blues Magoos,
A Certain Ratio,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.