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 Saudi Arabia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Lindisfarne to the disco 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
DJ Sneak,
Minutemen,
Lungfish,
Amon Düül II,
The Five Americans,
Sun Ra,
The Mojo Men,
Pylon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tomorrow,
ABC,
Public Image Ltd.,
Television Personalities,
Dave Gahan,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Christie,
Jandek,
Marmalade,
Basic Channel,
X-101,
The Kinks,
Sällskapet,
Porter Ricks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Toasters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pierre Henry,
The American Breed,
Boz Scaggs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Chrome,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Human League,
Mark Hollis,
Brick,
Skaos,
Newcleus,
The Happenings,
Aloha Tigers,
Mad Mike,
Harmonia,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Procol Harum,
China Crisis,
The Flesh Eaters,
In Retrospect,
Gang Gang Dance,
The United States of America,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Das Ding,
Motorama,
Bobby Byrd,
The Wake,
Thee Headcoats,
Lower 48,
Pantytec,
Althea and Donna,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.