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 Benin and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Scan 7,
Sugar Minott,
Wally Richardson,
Lucky Dragons,
Funky Four + One,
Letta Mbulu,
Sixth Finger,
Soulsonic Force,
Vainqueur,
Throbbing Gristle,
Derrick May,
Danielle Patucci,
Leonard Cohen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Kinks,
Angry Samoans,
Howard Jones,
The Gladiators,
Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Prince Buster,
Tropical Tobacco,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Electric Prunes,
Juan Atkins,
Oneida,
The Doors,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Zeros,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barry Ungar,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sight & Sound,
Nick Fraelich,
Roy Ayers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Warren Ellis,
The Blues Magoos,
Donny Hathaway,
Mantronix,
The Golliwogs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lungfish,
Gang of Four,
Panda Bear,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter & Gordon,
Bauhaus,
David Bowie,
Brothers Johnson,
Davy DMX,
Albert Ayler,
Young Marble Giants,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sonny Sharrock,
DJ Style,
David McCallum,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.