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 Barbados and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Quantec to the electroclash 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Cybotron,
The Litter,
Robert Wyatt,
Suicide,
Kayak,
Rosa Yemen,
Banda Bassotti,
Buzzcocks,
the Association,
Aaron Thompson,
The Zeros,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang of Four,
Smog,
Scratch Acid,
Faust,
Shoche,
Amon Düül II,
U.S. Maple,
The Martian,
The Gladiators,
Warren Ellis,
Hasil Adkins,
Con Funk Shun,
Marine Girls,
the Sonics,
Junior Murvin,
Blossom Toes,
Guru Guru,
Morten Harket,
Mo-Dettes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rites of Spring,
Supertramp,
Fear,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Names,
Arcadia,
The Index,
Delta 5,
Absolute Body Control,
Kerrie Biddell,
Donny Hathaway,
Brass Construction,
Barrington Levy,
Los Fastidios,
The Beau Brummels,
Sparks,
ABC,
New York Dolls,
Joyce Sims,
Gichy Dan,
Skriet,
Sun City Girls,
Yellowson,
The Cure,
Procol Harum,
Minny Pops,
Funkadelic,
Darondo,
Circle Jerks,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.