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 Cameroon and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk 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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Toasters,
Model 500,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smiths,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bill Wells,
Basic Channel,
Lightning Bolt,
Dual Sessions,
H. Thieme,
Nirvana,
Juan Atkins,
In Retrospect,
The Fortunes,
Crime,
Deadbeat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Amon Düül II,
Man Eating Sloth,
Whodini,
The Count Five,
Anakelly,
Letta Mbulu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ralphi Rosario,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roy Ayers,
Underground Resistance,
Loose Ends,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Electric Prunes,
K-Klass,
Sugar Minott,
Neil Young,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cymande,
Fluxion,
Harpers Bizarre,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
Angry Samoans,
Organ,
Ornette Coleman,
U.S. Maple,
Al Stewart,
Average White Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Five Americans,
Lou Christie,
World's Most,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fela Kuti,
Gang Green,
Dennis Brown,
John Holt,
Radio Birdman,
Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soul II Soul,
Blancmange,
Thompson Twins,
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.