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 Gambia 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Wally Richardson to the dance 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Kurtis Blow,
Jacob Miller,
Unrelated Segments,
Sound Behaviour,
The Golliwogs,
PIL,
Pantytec,
The Electric Prunes,
The Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Magma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cecil Taylor,
Minnie Riperton,
Godley & Creme,
The Trojans,
Neu!,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soft Cell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
F. McDonald,
The Beau Brummels,
Pylon,
Nils Olav,
The Monochrome Set,
Half Japanese,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Red Krayola,
Al Stewart,
Connie Case,
Marcia Griffiths,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Q and Not U,
Alton Ellis,
The Cowsills,
Spoonie Gee,
MC5,
Technova,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swans,
Joy Division,
Trumans Water,
Mission of Burma,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Babytalk,
The Associates,
Lakeside,
Andrew Hill,
Gichy Dan,
Mo-Dettes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hot Snakes,
Funkadelic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Man Parrish,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.