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 Mauritania and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Sam Rivers,
Porter Ricks,
Desert Stars,
The Index,
H. Thieme,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultra Naté,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
Malaria!,
Half Japanese,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Trojans,
The American Breed,
Eli Mardock,
Subhumans,
Cluster,
Todd Rundgren,
The Moleskins,
Lightning Bolt,
Warren Ellis,
Idris Muhammad,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nick Fraelich,
Spandau Ballet,
Khruangbin,
Liliput,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nils Olav,
Sarah Menescal,
Bauhaus,
Minnie Riperton,
the Sonics,
Brass Construction,
Chris & Cosey,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boz Scaggs,
Quantec,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Hill,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mummies,
Suicide,
Marine Girls,
Lower 48,
Soul II Soul,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gang of Four,
Janne Schatter,
Loose Ends,
Fat Boys,
The Saints,
Jawbox,
Funky Four + One,
E-Dancer,
Peter & Gordon,
Al Stewart,
Trumans Water,
Thompson Twins,
Roxy Music,
Amon Düül,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.