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 France and from Madrid.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Jesus and Mary Chain to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo 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?
Blossom Toes,
The Dirtbombs,
Monolake,
The Count Five,
Donald Byrd,
Sister Nancy,
La Düsseldorf,
The Martian,
Amazonics,
Flamin' Groovies,
Alison Limerick,
World's Most,
Thee Headcoats,
Khruangbin,
Quando Quango,
Roy Ayers,
Hardrive,
The Star Department,
Black Moon,
The United States of America,
Bootsy Collins,
Nico,
Fluxion,
Marmalade,
Aloha Tigers,
F. McDonald,
the Swans,
Lindisfarne,
Camouflage,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rites of Spring,
Scratch Acid,
Public Image Ltd.,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Stooges,
The Saints,
Eden Ahbez,
Crime,
Basic Channel,
The Remains,
Althea and Donna,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mandrill,
8 Eyed Spy,
Carl Craig,
Television,
Television Personalities,
the Association,
Ronnie Foster,
Fad Gadget,
Sight & Sound,
The Golliwogs,
Mr. Review,
David Axelrod,
Lalo Schifrin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neil Young,
the Human League,
Y Pants,
Yaz,
Grey Daturas,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.