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 Paraguay and from Jakarta.
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 Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wire to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Music Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Man Parrish,
Babytalk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cymande,
Arcadia,
Porter Ricks,
Chris Corsano,
Deepchord,
Minor Threat,
Circle Jerks,
Bauhaus,
The Barracudas,
H. Thieme,
Unwound,
La Düsseldorf,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jawbox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Danielle Patucci,
Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lyres,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scratch Acid,
Judy Mowatt,
Franke,
The Moody Blues,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joensuu 1685,
Tommy Roe,
Jacob Miller,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scrapy,
Saccharine Trust,
Darondo,
The Divine Comedy,
Aswad,
China Crisis,
Moby Grape,
Mr. Review,
Crispy Ambulance,
Shoche,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Offenders,
Lightning Bolt,
The Toasters,
Country Teasers,
Cal Tjader,
Eli Mardock,
Kurtis Blow,
cv313,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flipper,
Inner City,
Dave Gahan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scion,
Pylon,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.