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 Laos and from Shanghai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Flamin' Groovies to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Letta Mbulu,
Neil Young,
The Slits,
Skarface,
The Velvet Underground,
Rekid,
Oblivians,
Yusef Lateef,
Franke,
The Zeros,
Pussy Galore,
Animal Collective,
Motorama,
Barry Ungar,
Prince Buster,
The Golliwogs,
Sister Nancy,
Blake Baxter,
Dead Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grey Daturas,
Amon Düül,
Magma,
Slave,
The Trojans,
Minutemen,
The Names,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Schoolly D,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crime,
Unrelated Segments,
Albert Ayler,
Thee Headcoats,
Television,
Rites of Spring,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mandrill,
The Cure,
Bobby Sherman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New Age Steppers,
Easy Going,
Visage,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Moon,
Matthew Halsall,
Ralphi Rosario,
ABC,
Wasted Youth,
Wire,
The Cramps,
Khruangbin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mo-Dettes,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.