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 Latvia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 synthesizer 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the techno 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Zapp,
The Walker Brothers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Grey Daturas,
The Star Department,
Reuben Wilson,
the Swans,
Nas,
Gichy Dan,
The Evens,
Banda Bassotti,
Bizarre Inc.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Schoolly D,
Ice-T,
Charles Mingus,
The Smoke,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grauzone,
Man Eating Sloth,
U.S. Maple,
Section 25,
Unrelated Segments,
CMW,
Technova,
UT,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
Ituana,
Average White Band,
Mantronix,
Groovy Waters,
Arab on Radar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Underground Resistance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hashim,
Crash Course in Science,
Dual Sessions,
Ten City,
Bronski Beat,
Sällskapet,
Tres Demented,
Mr. Review,
Symarip,
Dark Day,
Glambeats Corp.,
Niagra,
Panda Bear,
Sarah Menescal,
Oneida,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Sherman,
The Motions,
David McCallum,
Bob Dylan,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.