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 Chad and from Lyon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rufus Thomas 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Faraquet,
Pylon,
Smog,
Make Up,
The Monks,
Gang Green,
Interpol,
EPMD,
Malaria!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hardrive,
Drexciya,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Offenders,
Banda Bassotti,
Subhumans,
Nick Fraelich,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Frankie Knuckles,
The J.B.'s,
The Trojans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cal Tjader,
UT,
Rapeman,
R.M.O.,
The Zeros,
the Normal,
Todd Terry,
New York Dolls,
The Move,
The Gories,
Tropical Tobacco,
Altered Images,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pulsallama,
Spoonie Gee,
Whodini,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Intrusion,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rod Modell,
Model 500,
Todd Rundgren,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suburban Knight,
Basic Channel,
Terry Callier,
MDC,
Rufus Thomas,
John Cale,
DJ Sneak,
Cheater Slicks,
Tommy Roe,
Vainqueur,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.