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 Slovenia and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Thee Headcoats to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Warsaw,
The Doors,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Make Up,
The Dead C,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ice-T,
June of 44,
Amon Düül,
Rhythm & Sound,
Main Source,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tres Demented,
the Sonics,
D'Angelo,
Livin' Joy,
OOIOO,
Pole,
Bang On A Can,
a-ha,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dave Gahan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare,
Pylon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Whodini,
Siglo XX,
Television,
Howard Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cameo,
Camouflage,
Derrick Morgan,
X-102,
The Fall,
Alice Coltrane,
Skarface,
CMW,
The Vogues,
Henry Cow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Vainqueur,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Iggy Pop,
Rosa Yemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marc Almond,
The Tremeloes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Animal Collective,
The New Christs,
The Grass Roots,
Maleditus Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Lynne,
Aural Exciters,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.