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 Eritrea and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Letta Mbulu to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Basic Channel,
Sarah Menescal,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
Eve St. Jones,
Model 500,
Qualms,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Alice Coltrane,
CMW,
Kayak,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mantronix,
The Searchers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fall,
Arthur Verocai,
Thee Headcoats,
Little Man,
Saccharine Trust,
The Remains,
Moby Grape,
The American Breed,
Second Layer,
Don Cherry,
This Heat,
The Monks,
Crime,
Sight & Sound,
Anakelly,
Fela Kuti,
Michelle Simonal,
Y Pants,
The Misunderstood,
The Velvet Underground,
Laurel Aitken,
Connie Case,
Lakeside,
Mission of Burma,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Angels of Light,
The Cure,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
Angry Samoans,
Negative Approach,
Thompson Twins,
Althea and Donna,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Invisible,
Circle Jerks,
Reagan Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
JFA,
Outsiders,
Skaos,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harry Pussy,
Bluetip,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.