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 South Sudan and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lee Hazlewood to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Derrick Morgan,
Harmonia,
Charles Mingus,
Groovy Waters,
Connie Case,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Detroit Cobras,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Moss Icon,
Ten City,
Chrome,
Pantaleimon,
Marc Almond,
Shoche,
L. Decosne,
The Fuzztones,
Intrusion,
Al Stewart,
Heaven 17,
Wolf Eyes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kayak,
Buzzcocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mr. Review,
The Music Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Cluster,
Radiohead,
Little Man,
The Doors,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barrington Levy,
Franke,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Blake Baxter,
Sex Pistols,
The Cowsills,
Flash Fearless,
Tomorrow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yusef Lateef,
Rekid,
Oblivians,
The Mojo Men,
Bobby Womack,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cramps,
Surgeon,
The Happenings,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Model 500,
Pagans,
Make Up,
The Invisible,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.