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 Mexico and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Ossler to the electroclash 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reagan Youth,
Dawn Penn,
The Seeds,
Camouflage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Normal,
UT,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ponytail,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wire,
Minny Pops,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jawbox,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
Japan,
The Fortunes,
Nirvana,
the Soft Cell,
The Zeros,
Spoonie Gee,
Godley & Creme,
The Durutti Column,
James White and The Blacks,
Inner City,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chrome,
Arcadia,
U.S. Maple,
Monolake,
John Coltrane,
Gregory Isaacs,
Depeche Mode,
Eddi Front,
The Moleskins,
Reuben Wilson,
Blancmange,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Can,
Byron Stingily,
Tropical Tobacco,
Metal Thangz,
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
Chris Corsano,
Moby Grape,
Masters at Work,
Todd Terry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Agent Orange,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.