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 Ghana and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Zapp to the grime 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
The Electric Prunes,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Pretty Things,
Qualms,
Roy Ayers,
Pagans,
X-102,
Oneida,
Stockholm Monsters,
48th St. Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Vogues,
Ossler,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
Shoche,
Angry Samoans,
Sandy B,
Section 25,
Radio Birdman,
Blossom Toes,
Wings,
DNA,
Alphaville,
New Order,
MDC,
Hardrive,
The Stooges,
Wolf Eyes,
Accadde A,
Suburban Knight,
Danielle Patucci,
The Buckinghams,
Khruangbin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
T. Rex,
Bauhaus,
Joensuu 1685,
Nico,
Country Teasers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ten City,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agitation Free,
The Moody Blues,
The Doors,
Bootsy Collins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tears for Fears,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skriet,
La Düsseldorf,
D'Angelo,
Ken Boothe,
Mandrill,
Eddi Front,
Robert Görl,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.