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 Gabon and from Calgary.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Guru Guru to the crunk 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
The Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
DJ Sneak,
Bauhaus,
John Foxx,
Tommy Roe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Josef K,
The Zeros,
Symarip,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pylon,
L. Decosne,
The Vogues,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Motions,
Nas,
Crime,
Thee Headcoats,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stereo Dub,
AZ,
Trumans Water,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smiths,
Gang of Four,
The Grass Roots,
Danielle Patucci,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skaos,
Albert Ayler,
Warsaw,
Desert Stars,
Minor Threat,
Schoolly D,
Babytalk,
Black Sheep,
Ossler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barrington Levy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
La Düsseldorf,
Howard Jones,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wally Richardson,
Ornette Coleman,
DJ Style,
Roxy Music,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
T. Rex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang Gang Dance,
Derrick May,
Make Up,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.