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 Malta and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Babytalk 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Agent Orange,
Soft Cell,
The Barracudas,
New York Dolls,
Talk Talk,
Silicon Teens,
Ice-T,
Janne Schatter,
Albert Ayler,
Excepter,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Slick Rick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eurythmics,
John Holt,
The Busters,
Dead Boys,
Rekid,
The Vogues,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arthur Verocai,
Mandrill,
Circle Jerks,
K-Klass,
Inner City,
Bob Dylan,
Lou Christie,
Pole,
Suburban Knight,
Colin Newman,
Rapeman,
Max Romeo,
Swans,
New Age Steppers,
U.S. Maple,
Prince Buster,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radio Birdman,
Interpol,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
Main Source,
Hardrive,
The Monochrome Set,
Soulsonic Force,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cal Tjader,
Ronnie Foster,
Babytalk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arcadia,
Leonard Cohen,
EPMD,
Crash Course in Science,
New Order,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.