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 Niger and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
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 arpeggiator 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 Slits 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Wake,
Roxy Music,
Tubeway Army,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deepchord,
The Blues Magoos,
The Motions,
Prince Buster,
Chris Corsano,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Beau Brummels,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terry Callier,
Black Pus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Magma,
Monks,
Hardrive,
MC5,
Absolute Body Control,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Clarke,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Slits,
Bill Wells,
Clear Light,
Mad Mike,
Lightning Bolt,
L. Decosne,
Gong,
Sandy B,
La Düsseldorf,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Remains,
Ossler,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Flag,
Swans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fatback Band,
The Searchers,
Fugazi,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chrome,
Q65,
The Golliwogs,
Excepter,
Saccharine Trust,
Stiv Bators,
Joey Negro,
Oblivians,
Shuggie Otis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tres Demented,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.