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 Micronesia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet 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 Sound to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Camouflage,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Swell Maps,
Sun City Girls,
Matthew Bourne,
Thee Headcoats,
Mars,
Maleditus Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Slave,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare,
Lindisfarne,
a-ha,
The Stooges,
Groovy Waters,
Mandrill,
the Bar-Kays,
Brothers Johnson,
Suburban Knight,
X-102,
Graham Central Station,
Wings,
Nick Fraelich,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Saccharine Trust,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sixth Finger,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nas,
Depeche Mode,
Royal Trux,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Steve Hackett,
The Real Kids,
Parry Music,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Absolute Body Control,
Deepchord,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Raincoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cecil Taylor,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Essential Logic,
Ice-T,
Colin Newman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ludus,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
The Litter,
Mr. Review,
World's Most,
John Cale,
Infiniti,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.