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 Oman and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Albert Ayler to the grunge 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Heaven 17,
Guru Guru,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy Collins,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Hood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Techniques,
Jacques Brel,
Niagra,
Lucky Dragons,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
Ultra Naté,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harry Pussy,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Angels of Light,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
B.T. Express,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Loose Ends,
Isaac Hayes,
Cymande,
Brass Construction,
Japan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Matthew Halsall,
Country Teasers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Howard Jones,
Reagan Youth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ronan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Mills,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Echospace,
The Red Krayola,
Eurythmics,
JFA,
UT,
Junior Murvin,
David Bowie,
Zapp,
Second Layer,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lakeside,
Motorama,
Scott Walker,
Ponytail,
Arab on Radar,
Make Up,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Au Pairs,
Unrelated Segments,
Panda Bear,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.