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 Senegal and from Bologna.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 Depeche Mode to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
The Pretty Things,
Jerry Gold Smith,
ABC,
Jawbox,
The Doors,
June of 44,
X-102,
Bush Tetras,
Tubeway Army,
Flash Fearless,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blancmange,
Vainqueur,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
E-Dancer,
The Blackbyrds,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxette,
Blake Baxter,
Unwound,
Royal Trux,
Simply Red,
Mark Hollis,
Albert Ayler,
Sixth Finger,
Alphaville,
kango's stein massive,
AZ,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bob Dylan,
Country Teasers,
The Young Rascals,
Panda Bear,
The Wake,
Yusef Lateef,
The Toasters,
Marine Girls,
Fluxion,
Monolake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Görl,
Massinfluence,
The Five Americans,
Can,
The American Breed,
Man Parrish,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oblivians,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yazoo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
JFA,
New Age Steppers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crooked Eye,
Stereo Dub,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.