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 Tuvalu and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brass Construction to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Steve Hackett,
Sex Pistols,
Moss Icon,
Pantaleimon,
John Foxx,
Deakin,
the Soft Cell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacques Brel,
Susan Cadogan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Swell Maps,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moleskins,
Quadrant,
These Immortal Souls,
Frankie Knuckles,
David Axelrod,
Ultra Naté,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tomorrow,
Ultravox,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Radiohead,
Talk Talk,
Slave,
Deepchord,
Bootsy Collins,
Juan Atkins,
One Last Wish,
Visage,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Erasure,
The Zeros,
The Red Krayola,
OOIOO,
Negative Approach,
Barry Ungar,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monolake,
The Happenings,
Dual Sessions,
In Retrospect,
Scratch Acid,
Lucky Dragons,
Morten Harket,
E-Dancer,
the Bar-Kays,
DJ Sneak,
Soft Machine,
David McCallum,
Tim Buckley,
Aural Exciters,
Josef K,
The Beau Brummels,
Lakeside,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.