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 Zambia and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Niagra to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Crime,
Nico,
The Doobie Brothers,
Spandau Ballet,
Basic Channel,
David Bowie,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Popol Vuh,
Morten Harket,
The Selecter,
Archie Shepp,
Nick Fraelich,
Pussy Galore,
Laurel Aitken,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Angry Samoans,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
New York Dolls,
Deakin,
Warren Ellis,
LL Cool J,
Country Teasers,
Barry Ungar,
Gerry Rafferty,
Duran Duran,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blake Baxter,
Sex Pistols,
The Music Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Make Up,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Slick Rick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lungfish,
The Monochrome Set,
The Red Krayola,
Ice-T,
Tim Buckley,
Television Personalities,
The Stooges,
Neu!,
Freddie Wadling,
Von Mondo,
Black Pus,
Fugazi,
The Fall,
Lower 48,
Scratch Acid,
Althea and Donna,
Steve Hackett,
Sexual Harrassment,
Carl Craig,
Television,
The Trojans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fear,
Organ,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.