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 Malawi and from Mexico City.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Hoover to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Dead Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Popol Vuh,
Byron Stingily,
The Doobie Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
June Days,
Hardrive,
Infiniti,
Howard Jones,
Scott Walker,
Juan Atkins,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lalann,
Soft Machine,
The Cowsills,
PIL,
Cheater Slicks,
Dennis Brown,
the Soft Cell,
Terry Callier,
The Angels of Light,
Sister Nancy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mr. Review,
Terrestrial Tones,
K-Klass,
Royal Trux,
Bootsy Collins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Unwound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Schoolly D,
The Young Rascals,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
DJ Style,
Smog,
Pylon,
Theoretical Girls,
Khruangbin,
Alton Ellis,
Supertramp,
Clear Light,
Rufus Thomas,
Anthony Braxton,
Scientists,
Japan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Lydon,
The Grass Roots,
Traffic Nightmare,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Man Parrish,
Glenn Branca,
The Victims,
Bob Dylan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Carl Craig,
The Last Poets,
Sun Ra,
Minnie Riperton,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.