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 Nauru and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Alarm Clocks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Henry Cow,
Niagra,
Section 25,
Barclay James Harvest,
Shoche,
Babytalk,
Little Man,
The Fortunes,
Dark Day,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pet Shop Boys,
Index,
Ronnie Foster,
Franke,
Unrelated Segments,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Average White Band,
The Last Poets,
Von Mondo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rufus Thomas,
Kayak,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lakeside,
Eurythmics,
the Normal,
Camberwell Now,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harry Pussy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Animal Collective,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Main Source,
JFA,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Livin' Joy,
The Raincoats,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Flag,
The Knickerbockers,
Yaz,
Simply Red,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Don Cherry,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dead C,
Sam Rivers,
Wasted Youth,
Scrapy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Howard Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nirvana,
Royal Trux,
The Blues Magoos,
Angry Samoans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.