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 Mauritius and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mission of Burma to the grunge 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jacques Brel,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chris Corsano,
The Angels of Light,
Rosa Yemen,
Newcleus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Magazine,
Alton Ellis,
Junior Murvin,
Faraquet,
Mars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang On A Can,
John Cale,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DNA,
Kaleidoscope,
Stereo Dub,
The Move,
Motorama,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suicide,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eli Mardock,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare,
Amon Düül II,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Pus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monochrome Set,
Scrapy,
Joyce Sims,
Youth Brigade,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Doors,
David Bowie,
Mandrill,
Harry Pussy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Gang Dance,
Niagra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Anakelly,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Tremeloes,
The Music Machine,
Angry Samoans,
E-Dancer,
The Fortunes,
Minutemen,
Theoretical Girls,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.