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 Gambia and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro 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 Niagra to the grime 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Moss Icon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Laurel Aitken,
The Searchers,
The Slits,
Von Mondo,
The Divine Comedy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
The Angels of Light,
Technova,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
June of 44,
Stiv Bators,
Henry Cow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Red Krayola,
Curtis Mayfield,
Todd Rundgren,
Bootsy Collins,
the Association,
Sound Behaviour,
Lindisfarne,
Roxy Music,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minutemen,
Excepter,
the Germs,
DJ Style,
Matthew Bourne,
The Young Rascals,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
Ralphi Rosario,
Silicon Teens,
Gabor Szabo,
Brothers Johnson,
Television Personalities,
Aloha Tigers,
The Real Kids,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hot Snakes,
Leonard Cohen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jacques Brel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bluetip,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kenny Larkin,
ABC,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Faust,
The Durutti Column,
Circle Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Martian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rites of Spring,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.