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 Germany and from Halifax.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Gabor Szabo,
Neu!,
The Walker Brothers,
Johnny Clarke,
The Wake,
Ossler,
Fat Boys,
Stiv Bators,
Althea and Donna,
Funkadelic,
Main Source,
Glambeats Corp.,
Das Ding,
China Crisis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blake Baxter,
Index,
Albert Ayler,
Todd Terry,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yellowson,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Human League,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Morten Harket,
Robert Hood,
Zero Boys,
Fear,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Skatalites,
Juan Atkins,
Drexciya,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Pus,
Lou Christie,
Carl Craig,
Marmalade,
Sight & Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Anthony Braxton,
Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Blancmange,
PIL,
Niagra,
The Barracudas,
Grey Daturas,
Tom Boy,
Scrapy,
Janne Schatter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Connie Case,
Avey Tare,
Marc Almond,
Nico,
Iggy Pop,
The Sound,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.