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 Estonia and from Lille.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Magma,
Judy Mowatt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Robert Hood,
Eddi Front,
Interpol,
The Names,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rufus Thomas,
The Electric Prunes,
The Five Americans,
Alton Ellis,
The Birthday Party,
Ohio Players,
Nico,
Skarface,
Howard Jones,
John Coltrane,
The Remains,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantytec,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Infiniti,
Lee Hazlewood,
David McCallum,
Soulsonic Force,
The Zeros,
Nirvana,
Negative Approach,
Rosa Yemen,
Yaz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang of Four,
June of 44,
Mark Hollis,
Eric Dolphy,
Thompson Twins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donald Byrd,
Jawbox,
Liliput,
Bob Dylan,
Chrome,
Stetsasonic,
The United States of America,
Marc Almond,
Amon Düül,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
This Heat,
Mo-Dettes,
Main Source,
Depeche Mode,
Livin' Joy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sister Nancy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobby Womack,
The Move,
Delta 5,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.