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 Kosovo and from Edmonton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ohio Players to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
The Vogues,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smiths,
Bobby Sherman,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Christie,
Circle Jerks,
Chris & Cosey,
F. McDonald,
Amazonics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Michelle Simonal,
Jacques Brel,
Angry Samoans,
Cybotron,
Eden Ahbez,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fugs,
Lou Reed,
Ten City,
Funkadelic,
The Dirtbombs,
The Selecter,
Nico,
Colin Newman,
Bang On A Can,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Leonard Cohen,
Harry Pussy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
New Age Steppers,
Animal Collective,
the Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arcadia,
The Five Americans,
The Saints,
John Lydon,
Pierre Henry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crime,
Gabor Szabo,
China Crisis,
Fugazi,
Groovy Waters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Archie Shepp,
The Trojans,
Warsaw,
X-101,
DJ Style,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Al Stewart,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.