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 Lesotho and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 David Bowie 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 10cc to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mark Hollis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Y Pants,
Warsaw,
Arthur Verocai,
Boz Scaggs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sight & Sound,
Ken Boothe,
The Litter,
Bobby Womack,
Black Bananas,
Black Sheep,
Warren Ellis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Henry Cow,
Archie Shepp,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scan 7,
Bluetip,
Nation of Ulysses,
Delta 5,
The Star Department,
Altered Images,
Qualms,
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
Quantec,
The Cramps,
The Gun Club,
Harmonia,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Saccharine Trust,
Eden Ahbez,
Parry Music,
The Busters,
Masters at Work,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Todd Rundgren,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radiohead,
The Electric Prunes,
Audionom,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liliput,
Tres Demented,
Flipper,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hardrive,
Deadbeat,
Marshall Jefferson,
Unrelated Segments,
Loose Ends,
The Wake,
The Golliwogs,
Fat Boys,
Stereo Dub,
Maleditus Sound,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.