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 Burundi and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin 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 funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Dark Day,
John Foxx,
The Electric Prunes,
DNA,
The Doors,
Bill Near,
The Index,
Reuben Wilson,
Deadbeat,
Flipper,
Reagan Youth,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Buzzcocks,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Almond,
Sex Pistols,
Mary Jane Girls,
Can,
The Detroit Cobras,
Idris Muhammad,
The Slackers,
The Associates,
The Fall,
Dennis Brown,
Ituana,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tres Demented,
Peter & Gordon,
Index,
Brothers Johnson,
Desert Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Sonics,
Tommy Roe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dead Boys,
Minutemen,
Crooked Eye,
Khruangbin,
Agent Orange,
Nirvana,
Wire,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Golliwogs,
Marcia Griffiths,
a-ha,
Matthew Bourne,
Suburban Knight,
Lungfish,
Popol Vuh,
Steve Hackett,
Slick Rick,
Metal Thangz,
Swans,
X-Ray Spex,
Alice Coltrane,
The Evens,
Soft Machine,
Kayak,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.