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 Estonia and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Leaves to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
The Residents,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The J.B.'s,
Saccharine Trust,
Arab on Radar,
Deakin,
The Tremeloes,
Dark Day,
The Fire Engines,
Monolake,
The Kinks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The New Christs,
Soft Machine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flipper,
X-102,
Rhythm & Sound,
Blake Baxter,
48th St. Collective,
Spoonie Gee,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Enemy,
Essential Logic,
Jeff Mills,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Evens,
Scrapy,
Morten Harket,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radio Birdman,
Josef K,
The Fugs,
Jawbox,
Crime,
Intrusion,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABC,
Echospace,
Joyce Sims,
Anakelly,
Marvin Gaye,
Magma,
Inner City,
Max Romeo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Janne Schatter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Motorama,
The Music Machine,
Warsaw,
Technova,
Y Pants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
Nick Fraelich,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.