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 Micronesia and from Accra.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the techno 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Quadrant,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Intrusion,
Archie Shepp,
Lakeside,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pantytec,
Livin' Joy,
MC5,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Sonics,
Boz Scaggs,
The Music Machine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Cramps,
Motorama,
Sun Ra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gories,
Tres Demented,
Chrome,
The Tremeloes,
Judy Mowatt,
Jandek,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Sherman,
Darondo,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Raincoats,
Boogie Down Productions,
Television,
Danielle Patucci,
Funky Four + One,
Circle Jerks,
Goldenarms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cybotron,
Oneida,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
James White and The Blacks,
Sex Pistols,
Soul II Soul,
The Busters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bush Tetras,
DNA,
The Real Kids,
The Smoke,
The New Christs,
Wasted Youth,
Bad Manners,
Pole,
Suburban Knight,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.