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 Somalia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
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 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 Lou Reed 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 Beau Brummels to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
John Coltrane,
DNA,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arthur Verocai,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
Talk Talk,
Lou Christie,
The Birthday Party,
Trumans Water,
Goldenarms,
Bill Near,
Nico,
The Kinks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television,
The Dead C,
Bob Dylan,
Lakeside,
Tubeway Army,
The Gories,
Charles Mingus,
Ultravox,
Alphaville,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jawbox,
Judy Mowatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fugs,
Arab on Radar,
Pulsallama,
The Neon Judgement,
Marc Almond,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Byrd,
Bang On A Can,
Josef K,
The Mojo Men,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ten City,
The Moody Blues,
Black Flag,
Gong,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Excepter,
Peter & Gordon,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Lydon,
Sam Rivers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Unwound,
Urselle,
Steve Hackett,
ABBA,
R.M.O.,
Mars,
Scan 7,
Warren Ellis,
Skaos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echospace,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.