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 Austria and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Minor Threat to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Yazoo,
Adolescents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Robert Wyatt,
The Selecter,
Deadbeat,
Subhumans,
Livin' Joy,
Colin Newman,
Cheater Slicks,
Amon Düül II,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Seeds,
Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wally Richardson,
Dawn Penn,
Blake Baxter,
Wire,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fire Engines,
Erasure,
Prince Buster,
Kerri Chandler,
The Happenings,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Busters,
The Cramps,
Piero Umiliani,
Drexciya,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Organ,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jacques Brel,
Moss Icon,
Youth Brigade,
Motorama,
Nils Olav,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Foxx,
New Age Steppers,
Davy DMX,
Hot Snakes,
Trumans Water,
Don Cherry,
X-Ray Spex,
Masters at Work,
Man Parrish,
Moby Grape,
Flipper,
F. McDonald,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Howard Jones,
Tres Demented,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.