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 Gambia and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Heaven 17 to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Deepchord,
Tim Buckley,
Morten Harket,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jandek,
Black Moon,
Soul II Soul,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
Tommy Roe,
The Trojans,
PIL,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dead Boys,
Trumans Water,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soul Sonic Force,
Anthony Braxton,
Laurel Aitken,
D'Angelo,
Don Cherry,
Peter and Kerry,
Lindisfarne,
Scrapy,
Model 500,
These Immortal Souls,
Scan 7,
Khruangbin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Danielle Patucci,
The Move,
Michelle Simonal,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Drexciya,
Half Japanese,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Foxx,
Donald Byrd,
Mark Hollis,
Donny Hathaway,
Second Layer,
Animal Collective,
R.M.O.,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cameo,
Rod Modell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deadbeat,
Brass Construction,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
New Order,
Jeru the Damaja,
The New Christs,
Minor Threat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.