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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer 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 Harry Pussy 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Black Flag,
The Moleskins,
Television,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Boredoms,
The Busters,
Wally Richardson,
Harmonia,
Henry Cow,
Sam Rivers,
LL Cool J,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra,
The Techniques,
The Slits,
The Count Five,
Pulsallama,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Faraquet,
Tears for Fears,
Nas,
B.T. Express,
a-ha,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Smog,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Byrd,
Rotary Connection,
Shuggie Otis,
David McCallum,
Black Moon,
The Mummies,
Arcadia,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pere Ubu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Erasure,
Slave,
Los Fastidios,
Neil Young,
Gong,
Funky Four + One,
cv313,
These Immortal Souls,
The Invisible,
Michelle Simonal,
Sex Pistols,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
This Heat,
Interpol,
Clear Light,
The Star Department,
Gabor Szabo,
Maleditus Sound,
Drive Like Jehu,
Severed Heads,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.