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 Dominican Republic and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin 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 Oblivians 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pussy Galore,
Alphaville,
T. Rex,
Sonic Youth,
Brand Nubian,
The Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Robert Wyatt,
June Days,
Yazoo,
Groovy Waters,
Barry Ungar,
Blancmange,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fat Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Blake Baxter,
The Martian,
The Victims,
The Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magazine,
The Vogues,
Wally Richardson,
The Mummies,
the Sonics,
Audionom,
Connie Case,
Marshall Jefferson,
Icehouse,
The Young Rascals,
Anakelly,
Simply Red,
Pole,
Hot Snakes,
Ohio Players,
Soul Sonic Force,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Newcleus,
The Names,
Lakeside,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gabor Szabo,
Reuben Wilson,
Boredoms,
Spoonie Gee,
Thompson Twins,
Andrew Hill,
Slick Rick,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moebius,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.