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 Kyrgyzstan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar 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 Excepter to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
The Vogues,
Index,
Motorama,
Faraquet,
Aaron Thompson,
Mission of Burma,
Gang Green,
The Durutti Column,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Yellowson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Electric Prunes,
Albert Ayler,
Carl Craig,
Ken Boothe,
David Bowie,
Agent Orange,
The Litter,
Monolake,
Terrestrial Tones,
Colin Newman,
Graham Central Station,
Icehouse,
Amon Düül II,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sandy B,
Gichy Dan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Groovy Waters,
Symarip,
Theoretical Girls,
The Victims,
the Slits,
Nas,
The Star Department,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fall,
Audionom,
The Doors,
The Birthday Party,
Barry Ungar,
Frankie Knuckles,
Saccharine Trust,
Dawn Penn,
the Human League,
Neil Young,
Bluetip,
Godley & Creme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Golliwogs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Dead C,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Foxx,
Joensuu 1685,
Letta Mbulu,
The Zeros,
Sexual Harrassment,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.