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 Kyrgyzstan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 48th St. Collective to the dance 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
The Velvet Underground,
The Smiths,
A Flock of Seagulls,
a-ha,
Scion,
Blake Baxter,
The Blackbyrds,
Suicide,
Dawn Penn,
Scott Walker,
Althea and Donna,
Ossler,
Popol Vuh,
Neil Young,
Black Sheep,
The Doobie Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Brick,
Sarah Menescal,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Moon,
Mary Jane Girls,
New Order,
The Last Poets,
The Misunderstood,
The Buckinghams,
Anthony Braxton,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Flash Fearless,
MC5,
T. Rex,
Loose Ends,
The Walker Brothers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mad Mike,
Buzzcocks,
Scratch Acid,
The Wake,
Bootsy Collins,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mr. Review,
Barrington Levy,
The Gun Club,
Section 25,
Wolf Eyes,
Livin' Joy,
The Sound,
Jandek,
Symarip,
Cluster,
Ohio Players,
Marshall Jefferson,
T.S.O.L.,
The Durutti Column,
Amon Düül,
Underground Resistance,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joe Finger,
Lebanon Hanover,
Morten Harket,
Marine Girls,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.