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 Croatia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bronski Beat to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Sam Rivers,
cv313,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bill Near,
Hot Snakes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Stooges,
The Gap Band,
Lower 48,
Danielle Patucci,
The Music Machine,
Funkadelic,
The Zeros,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Saccharine Trust,
Negative Approach,
Brass Construction,
Talk Talk,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Procol Harum,
The Golliwogs,
the Swans,
The Martian,
Lindisfarne,
Morten Harket,
This Heat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Little Man,
Barbara Tucker,
the Slits,
Archie Shepp,
Scan 7,
The Associates,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Symarip,
Marvin Gaye,
Leonard Cohen,
Television,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Angels of Light,
The Residents,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jacques Brel,
Wally Richardson,
Maleditus Sound,
Fear,
The Kinks,
10cc,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fortunes,
Half Japanese,
FM Einheit,
Gang of Four,
Henry Cow,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.