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 Ivory Coast and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Unwound,
Brick,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
B.T. Express,
Sight & Sound,
Sound Behaviour,
Franke,
Amon Düül II,
The American Breed,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Evens,
Funky Four + One,
Heaven 17,
Inner City,
Camouflage,
Joyce Sims,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Babytalk,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Reed,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Associates,
David Axelrod,
Magazine,
Quando Quango,
DJ Sneak,
K-Klass,
Subhumans,
Infiniti,
Rosa Yemen,
Deepchord,
Pole,
Q and Not U,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Prince Buster,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dennis Brown,
Toni Rubio,
Matthew Halsall,
Lightning Bolt,
Todd Terry,
The Residents,
Eric Dolphy,
Negative Approach,
Fela Kuti,
Fad Gadget,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gastr Del Sol,
Camberwell Now,
Scott Walker,
A Certain Ratio,
Delta 5,
a-ha,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Cale,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.