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 Norway and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Accadde A to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-101,
Franke,
Roger Hodgson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Siglo XX,
La Düsseldorf,
Erasure,
Aswad,
Au Pairs,
Kerri Chandler,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arab on Radar,
Mark Hollis,
Pulsallama,
The Associates,
Althea and Donna,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Icehouse,
Urselle,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Christie,
This Heat,
ABC,
Hoover,
The Monks,
The Invisible,
Can,
the Germs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Zapp,
Brick,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Toni Rubio,
Joensuu 1685,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Swans,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Birthday Party,
The Five Americans,
Skaos,
Eric Dolphy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Al Stewart,
Deepchord,
The Gun Club,
Neu!,
The Fuzztones,
China Crisis,
Excepter,
Jacob Miller,
KRS-One,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Tremeloes,
The Beau Brummels,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.