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 Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Ultravox to the grunge 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spandau Ballet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Massinfluence,
Delta 5,
Hoover,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Schoolly D,
Second Layer,
Marmalade,
The Trojans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Red Krayola,
The Fall,
The Fugs,
Tim Buckley,
Aloha Tigers,
New Age Steppers,
Quadrant,
The J.B.'s,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Don Cherry,
Bronski Beat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
K-Klass,
OOIOO,
Byron Stingily,
The Litter,
Gong,
Radiopuhelimet,
Minnie Riperton,
Tubeway Army,
Black Flag,
Spoonie Gee,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smoke,
Jandek,
DJ Style,
The Modern Lovers,
Qualms,
Adolescents,
Bob Dylan,
Gabor Szabo,
The Divine Comedy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Model 500,
Marc Almond,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
The Monks,
R.M.O.,
One Last Wish,
Crash Course in Science,
Half Japanese,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The United States of America,
The Smiths,
Ituana,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.