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 Macedonia and from Hong Kong.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Smoke to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Sister Nancy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camberwell Now,
Pylon,
Spandau Ballet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Real Kids,
Aural Exciters,
Isaac Hayes,
Tres Demented,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Count Five,
Average White Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lou Reed,
The Associates,
Toni Rubio,
The Skatalites,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Y Pants,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Toasters,
Jandek,
Magazine,
Deakin,
Desert Stars,
The Sound,
Pantaleimon,
Kas Product,
Bang On A Can,
Arcadia,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Stooges,
The United States of America,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gories,
One Last Wish,
The Move,
The Angels of Light,
Ludus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Suicide,
Hardrive,
D'Angelo,
The Durutti Column,
Pharoah Sanders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mantronix,
Zero Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Agent Orange,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Electric Prunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Parry Music,
Matthew Halsall,
Stetsasonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.