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 Mexico and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alarm Clocks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Lydon,
Japan,
Bobby Sherman,
Man Parrish,
Pantaleimon,
Hoover,
The Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Excepter,
Jawbox,
Agent Orange,
Faraquet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ossler,
Althea and Donna,
the Normal,
Minny Pops,
Steve Hackett,
Spoonie Gee,
These Immortal Souls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pulsallama,
Stetsasonic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quadrant,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Second Layer,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cure,
Nils Olav,
The Gap Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Nick Fraelich,
Camberwell Now,
The Saints,
Urselle,
The Busters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Skaos,
Subhumans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Infiniti,
Parry Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eyeless In Gaza,
China Crisis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lightning Bolt,
Khruangbin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Godley & Creme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.