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 Syria and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Cell to the rock 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Gang Gang Dance,
Spandau Ballet,
Reagan Youth,
Glenn Branca,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aswad,
The Names,
The Fall,
the Normal,
Marc Almond,
Monolake,
Judy Mowatt,
The Vogues,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Barclay James Harvest,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ten City,
Accadde A,
Toni Rubio,
Lakeside,
The Angels of Light,
The Five Americans,
T. Rex,
Joe Smooth,
Gabor Szabo,
Simply Red,
10cc,
MC5,
Minor Threat,
Arcadia,
Excepter,
The Modern Lovers,
The United States of America,
the Association,
Public Enemy,
Soft Cell,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Green,
The Gories,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cure,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
The Tremeloes,
John Foxx,
This Heat,
Joey Negro,
Roger Hodgson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Halsall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angry Samoans,
a-ha,
Iggy Pop,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.