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 Georgia and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Johnny Clarke to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Carl Craig,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Wyatt,
Pussy Galore,
The Velvet Underground,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Swans,
Accadde A,
Stockholm Monsters,
Howard Jones,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ice-T,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Walker Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
June Days,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T.S.O.L.,
Joe Smooth,
Cybotron,
Q and Not U,
Minnie Riperton,
The Standells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eden Ahbez,
China Crisis,
The Names,
Excepter,
Bobby Byrd,
Cymande,
Jacques Brel,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grauzone,
CMW,
Technova,
Los Fastidios,
Cal Tjader,
Khruangbin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Al Stewart,
Bauhaus,
the Normal,
The Offenders,
Blake Baxter,
Hasil Adkins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bush Tetras,
Pantaleimon,
Nirvana,
Parry Music,
Magazine,
The Human League,
The Seeds,
cv313,
Terry Callier,
The Techniques,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harpers Bizarre,
Siglo XX,
Blancmange,
Scion,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fortunes,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.