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 Hungary and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fatback Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters 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?
Black Sheep,
Albert Ayler,
The Black Dice,
The Electric Prunes,
The Human League,
Gichy Dan,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Searchers,
ABBA,
The Move,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reagan Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
Eddi Front,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rites of Spring,
The Knickerbockers,
Wally Richardson,
Agent Orange,
Interpol,
Sarah Menescal,
Roxy Music,
John Coltrane,
Zapp,
DJ Sneak,
Gabor Szabo,
Index,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Agitation Free,
Infiniti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camouflage,
Leonard Cohen,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Associates,
Nico,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Television,
These Immortal Souls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Faust,
Archie Shepp,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marine Girls,
Scratch Acid,
Tim Buckley,
David McCallum,
The Gun Club,
Youth Brigade,
Pulsallama,
Steve Hackett,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ronan,
The Leaves,
Barclay James Harvest,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Slits,
Little Man,
The Kinks,
China Crisis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.