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 Libya and from Glasgow.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Index to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Metal Thangz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Moebius,
Faust,
OOIOO,
Bush Tetras,
Minor Threat,
MDC,
The Saints,
Bobby Sherman,
Camberwell Now,
Marine Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Kenny Larkin,
The Star Department,
Howard Jones,
Fluxion,
Chrome,
Todd Rundgren,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cowsills,
The Vogues,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fear,
Connie Case,
Jeru the Damaja,
Piero Umiliani,
Harry Pussy,
The Zeros,
Neu!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
JFA,
The Buckinghams,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fire Engines,
Scan 7,
Kevin Saunderson,
Shuggie Otis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Zapp,
This Heat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yusef Lateef,
Radio Birdman,
The Real Kids,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Bar-Kays,
Warren Ellis,
Sister Nancy,
Sonic Youth,
Yaz,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
U.S. Maple,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.