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 Andorra and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Slick Rick to the grunge 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fortunes,
Dark Day,
Maleditus Sound,
The Victims,
Swell Maps,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ohio Players,
David McCallum,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Evens,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Birthday Party,
Procol Harum,
Reuben Wilson,
Hoover,
Q65,
Ultra Naté,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gregory Isaacs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
Black Pus,
Ossler,
Con Funk Shun,
Babytalk,
Black Flag,
Crooked Eye,
The Smiths,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Peter & Gordon,
Neu!,
Thompson Twins,
Average White Band,
Fad Gadget,
The Fall,
Whodini,
Ludus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Qualms,
Sun City Girls,
Tim Buckley,
The Black Dice,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
Quando Quango,
kango's stein massive,
the Sonics,
Black Sheep,
Intrusion,
These Immortal Souls,
Gong,
Groovy Waters,
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pole,
The Buckinghams,
Sex Pistols,
Yazoo,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.