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 Samoa and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 The Walker Brothers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jawbox,
Quando Quango,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sight & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Victims,
The Monks,
Nas,
The Mummies,
Kevin Saunderson,
Warren Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brass Construction,
OOIOO,
Kerri Chandler,
Magma,
Schoolly D,
The Buckinghams,
Fatback Band,
The Modern Lovers,
UT,
Trumans Water,
New Order,
Circle Jerks,
Erasure,
Stiv Bators,
Robert Wyatt,
R.M.O.,
Fugazi,
The Index,
June of 44,
The Busters,
cv313,
Wasted Youth,
Moby Grape,
Cameo,
Magazine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Bar-Kays,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Y Pants,
Dawn Penn,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gong,
Sun City Girls,
Malaria!,
Theoretical Girls,
Jeff Lynne,
In Retrospect,
Boredoms,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Sonics,
The Move,
Lucky Dragons,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.