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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gastr Del Sol to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
The Stooges,
Gang Starr,
Eurythmics,
Susan Cadogan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dark Day,
Mandrill,
Amon Düül II,
Freddie Wadling,
Lyres,
Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
The Leaves,
China Crisis,
X-102,
Morten Harket,
Accadde A,
Marc Almond,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lou Reed,
Can,
Graham Central Station,
Ice-T,
Au Pairs,
James White and The Blacks,
Joe Finger,
Motorama,
Scratch Acid,
Delta 5,
The Zeros,
Zero Boys,
Magma,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
World's Most,
Soul II Soul,
Wolf Eyes,
Blake Baxter,
Panda Bear,
Echospace,
Bush Tetras,
The J.B.'s,
Black Moon,
Whodini,
Cecil Taylor,
Alphaville,
Sparks,
Davy DMX,
Sixth Finger,
The Star Department,
Peter and Kerry,
the Swans,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Wells,
Basic Channel,
Livin' Joy,
Eric Copeland,
Soft Machine,
MC5,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.