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 Dominica and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin 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 The Sonics to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
The Count Five,
Delta 5,
Franke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Hood,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alice Coltrane,
Tres Demented,
The Fuzztones,
Siglo XX,
Average White Band,
The Litter,
Robert Görl,
The Gories,
The Real Kids,
Minnie Riperton,
X-102,
Lou Reed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Circle Jerks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Accadde A,
Monolake,
The Red Krayola,
Kool Moe Dee,
Panda Bear,
48th St. Collective,
Roxy Music,
Fugazi,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Magazine,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bob Dylan,
Livin' Joy,
Unrelated Segments,
The Wake,
The Vogues,
New York Dolls,
Crash Course in Science,
Pagans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Tremeloes,
the Soft Cell,
Clear Light,
Jerry's Kids,
The Music Machine,
The Saints,
Can,
Easy Going,
Dave Gahan,
Rosa Yemen,
Theoretical Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
T.S.O.L.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barbara Tucker,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pierre Henry,
Barry Ungar,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.