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 Philippines and from Seoul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Juan Atkins to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Essential Logic,
The Blues Magoos,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jerry's Kids,
Babytalk,
Goldenarms,
Colin Newman,
Ossler,
Easy Going,
Letta Mbulu,
China Crisis,
The Smoke,
Sarah Menescal,
Trumans Water,
Schoolly D,
Deepchord,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Flag,
Nick Fraelich,
Warren Ellis,
Patti Smith,
Moebius,
U.S. Maple,
48th St. Collective,
the Swans,
Freddie Wadling,
The Seeds,
Anakelly,
Pet Shop Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
Dead Boys,
Cymande,
Charles Mingus,
Flamin' Groovies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Young Marble Giants,
Crooked Eye,
Vladislav Delay,
Slick Rick,
Swans,
Monolake,
Avey Tare,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Busters,
Rapeman,
Quadrant,
F. McDonald,
Los Fastidios,
D'Angelo,
The Leaves,
Negative Approach,
Derrick Morgan,
Symarip,
Albert Ayler,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ituana,
Shuggie Otis,
Sonic Youth,
Sister Nancy,
Spandau Ballet,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.