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 Ethiopia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Moody Blues to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brick,
Sister Nancy,
Minny Pops,
Bronski Beat,
Don Cherry,
Pole,
The Five Americans,
Lyres,
Magma,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nirvana,
Suburban Knight,
Todd Rundgren,
Soft Cell,
The Standells,
Sällskapet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crime,
Nils Olav,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mr. Review,
Roxette,
Chrome,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
DJ Style,
Adolescents,
Alice Coltrane,
Arthur Verocai,
EPMD,
Al Stewart,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
Roy Ayers,
Dark Day,
Moss Icon,
Moebius,
Pylon,
Fad Gadget,
D'Angelo,
Ken Boothe,
Funky Four + One,
the Swans,
Pulsallama,
Das Ding,
Kas Product,
Country Teasers,
Yazoo,
Cheater Slicks,
Joy Division,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Neon Judgement,
The Angels of Light,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Au Pairs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.