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 Georgia and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tremeloes to the grime 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fire Engines,
Rakim,
The Tremeloes,
Josef K,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobby Sherman,
The Red Krayola,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tomorrow,
Fela Kuti,
The Angels of Light,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Janne Schatter,
Country Teasers,
Underground Resistance,
The Beau Brummels,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Germs,
The Gun Club,
Circle Jerks,
DJ Style,
The Last Poets,
Idris Muhammad,
China Crisis,
The Fortunes,
The Saints,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Todd Terry,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacob Miller,
Al Stewart,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cybotron,
The Smiths,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sound,
Index,
the Association,
T.S.O.L.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Motorama,
Trumans Water,
The Moleskins,
T. Rex,
Barrington Levy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dead C,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jawbox,
June of 44,
The Evens,
Chris Corsano,
The Black Dice,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sugar Minott,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.