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 Iceland and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 American Breed 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Nik Kershaw,
the Swans,
Unrelated Segments,
Second Layer,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alphaville,
Qualms,
Patti Smith,
John Holt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bill Wells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Laurel Aitken,
DNA,
The Fortunes,
This Heat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Simply Red,
The Golliwogs,
Motorama,
Von Mondo,
The Happenings,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Suburban Knight,
Cameo,
The American Breed,
JFA,
CMW,
Mantronix,
The Gun Club,
Lyres,
Average White Band,
Erasure,
Archie Shepp,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Moss Icon,
Dave Gahan,
Pole,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crooked Eye,
Liliput,
Marc Almond,
Pylon,
Wasted Youth,
Index,
Donald Byrd,
Supertramp,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Khruangbin,
Television Personalities,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Axelrod,
David McCallum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Skaos,
Procol Harum,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.