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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the jazz 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Angry Samoans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Maleditus Sound,
Scientists,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eddi Front,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Invisible,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Moon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang of Four,
Radiohead,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Urselle,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
Tommy Roe,
Amon Düül II,
Amon Düül,
Oneida,
Jacques Brel,
Bang On A Can,
Q and Not U,
The Kinks,
Roxy Music,
Chrome,
The Dead C,
Thompson Twins,
Quantec,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Neil Young,
The Music Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
OOIOO,
Los Fastidios,
the Germs,
Mars,
Crooked Eye,
The Techniques,
The Busters,
Ronnie Foster,
Warren Ellis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quadrant,
Masters at Work,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alphaville,
Newcleus,
Bush Tetras,
China Crisis,
Eric Dolphy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mandrill,
Kenny Larkin,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.