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 Greece and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Second Layer to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Roy Ayers,
Colin Newman,
Ken Boothe,
Gang of Four,
Accadde A,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang On A Can,
The Gories,
The Young Rascals,
Laurel Aitken,
Nik Kershaw,
Bob Dylan,
Technova,
Patti Smith,
Derrick May,
The Neon Judgement,
Simply Red,
Motorama,
Althea and Donna,
Aural Exciters,
L. Decosne,
The Vogues,
Roxette,
Siglo XX,
Fear,
Kevin Saunderson,
B.T. Express,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sound Behaviour,
The Trojans,
Ponytail,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fall,
Wolf Eyes,
Theoretical Girls,
Crime,
Barry Ungar,
Loose Ends,
Matthew Bourne,
Eric Dolphy,
La Düsseldorf,
Bronski Beat,
Mr. Review,
Minor Threat,
The Happenings,
Oneida,
The Gladiators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pere Ubu,
Howard Jones,
Tomorrow,
Bauhaus,
The Mojo Men,
Average White Band,
X-101,
Morten Harket,
FM Einheit,
Wally Richardson,
Blancmange,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.