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 San Marino and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
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 snare 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 Television to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
The Barracudas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Knickerbockers,
Hoover,
Maurizio,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rosa Yemen,
The Sonics,
Rhythm & Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
Curtis Mayfield,
Erykah Badu,
New Age Steppers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Angels of Light,
MC5,
Bobby Byrd,
Susan Cadogan,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül II,
Chris & Cosey,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roxy Music,
Agitation Free,
Joyce Sims,
The Fire Engines,
David Bowie,
The Cure,
The Offenders,
the Association,
Ludus,
Laurel Aitken,
Public Enemy,
T. Rex,
The Flesh Eaters,
cv313,
Sällskapet,
Harry Pussy,
World's Most,
Quando Quango,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Reed,
Trumans Water,
The Fortunes,
Nirvana,
Mars,
Tomorrow,
Lungfish,
Colin Newman,
Mandrill,
Yellowson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pagans,
Cheater Slicks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.