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 Kosovo and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe 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 Eddi Front to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Los Fastidios,
The Gun Club,
Malaria!,
Lalo Schifrin,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Womack,
Faust,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boz Scaggs,
48th St. Collective,
Soul II Soul,
Kayak,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lindisfarne,
D'Angelo,
Albert Ayler,
Maleditus Sound,
Goldenarms,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Fraelich,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blossom Toes,
Pulsallama,
Pierre Henry,
Dave Gahan,
Circle Jerks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Howard Jones,
Minny Pops,
This Heat,
Depeche Mode,
ABC,
Icehouse,
The Pretty Things,
Skarface,
FM Einheit,
Soulsonic Force,
Brothers Johnson,
Pussy Galore,
The Red Krayola,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Bourne,
The Divine Comedy,
Duran Duran,
Scott Walker,
T. Rex,
Bobby Byrd,
Shoche,
Quadrant,
Crash Course in Science,
The Dead C,
Minutemen,
Rosa Yemen,
Silicon Teens,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nico,
New Order,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.