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 Colombia and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
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 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 Robert Palmer 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 Ten City to the disco 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Swans,
the Association,
Los Fastidios,
Chris Corsano,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dennis Brown,
Con Funk Shun,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
AZ,
Crime,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Birthday Party,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soul II Soul,
Bootsy Collins,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deepchord,
The Count Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Howard Jones,
Y Pants,
The Tremeloes,
The Leaves,
The Index,
The Beau Brummels,
Wasted Youth,
T. Rex,
Sällskapet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
D'Angelo,
Arab on Radar,
Delta 5,
Minnie Riperton,
Lalann,
The Moleskins,
Sam Rivers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Donny Hathaway,
The Angels of Light,
Graham Central Station,
Urselle,
John Cale,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Infiniti,
Underground Resistance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bill Wells,
Talk Talk,
Black Bananas,
Neil Young,
Rekid,
Eve St. Jones,
Motorama,
MDC,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.