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 Cuba and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Aloha Tigers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
The Durutti Column,
Urselle,
Steve Hackett,
The Five Americans,
Y Pants,
Judy Mowatt,
Morten Harket,
Icehouse,
Marc Almond,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Red Krayola,
Scratch Acid,
John Holt,
the Normal,
Barrington Levy,
KRS-One,
Deepchord,
Hashim,
Pagans,
Warren Ellis,
Pole,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nico,
Cheater Slicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Pop Group,
The Cowsills,
This Heat,
Rakim,
The Pretty Things,
Main Source,
Ohio Players,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tommy Roe,
The Sonics,
Khruangbin,
Glenn Branca,
Man Parrish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Qualms,
Tubeway Army,
Ludus,
Angry Samoans,
The Standells,
The Buckinghams,
Roger Hodgson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rotary Connection,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Interpol,
Slave,
Metal Thangz,
Fat Boys,
Neu!,
Althea and Donna,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.