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 Palau and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 disco 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jandek record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Terrestrial Tones,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare,
Scan 7,
Robert Görl,
Blancmange,
Bang On A Can,
The Remains,
Tears for Fears,
The Raincoats,
The Doors,
The Names,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Electric Prunes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barry Ungar,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cameo,
Second Layer,
Dawn Penn,
The Cramps,
The Walker Brothers,
John Lydon,
The Mojo Men,
Lower 48,
FM Einheit,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moleskins,
Ultravox,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deakin,
Byron Stingily,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eurythmics,
Electric Prunes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
One Last Wish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stetsasonic,
The Searchers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gap Band,
The Neon Judgement,
The Zeros,
Accadde A,
The Victims,
Lyres,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marine Girls,
Visage,
Shoche,
The Alarm Clocks,
Darondo,
Pantaleimon,
Fat Boys,
The Moody Blues,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.