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 Benin and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Los Fastidios to the dance 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Public Enemy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jandek,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vainqueur,
Aaron Thompson,
Al Stewart,
Minny Pops,
Dorothy Ashby,
Urselle,
Man Parrish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rekid,
CMW,
Ituana,
Alison Limerick,
Kayak,
Thee Headcoats,
The Velvet Underground,
Neu!,
Television,
Cheater Slicks,
Stetsasonic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mo-Dettes,
Bad Manners,
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Inner City,
Lyres,
Sound Behaviour,
Kurtis Blow,
Gichy Dan,
Dennis Brown,
Sugar Minott,
Pere Ubu,
Stiv Bators,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Danielle Patucci,
The Monochrome Set,
John Holt,
UT,
In Retrospect,
Kerrie Biddell,
Monks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Stooges,
The Searchers,
Minnie Riperton,
Don Cherry,
The Moody Blues,
Desert Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Interpol,
The Happenings,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.