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 Panama and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dawn Penn to the crunk 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter & Gordon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
48th St. Collective,
Khruangbin,
Stockholm Monsters,
The New Christs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
New York Dolls,
Loose Ends,
Jacques Brel,
Cymande,
Tom Boy,
The Sound,
Mars,
Rosa Yemen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Donald Byrd,
Henry Cow,
Bush Tetras,
Dawn Penn,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fuzztones,
Roxette,
Stereo Dub,
The Slits,
The Electric Prunes,
David McCallum,
UT,
Talk Talk,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Cal Tjader,
Dorothy Ashby,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stetsasonic,
Warren Ellis,
Joensuu 1685,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quadrant,
Nico,
Mad Mike,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Green,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Reagan Youth,
Arthur Verocai,
Junior Murvin,
Q and Not U,
Sällskapet,
Black Sheep,
Lightning Bolt,
Masters at Work,
Second Layer,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter and Kerry,
Angry Samoans,
The Trojans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skriet,
Deadbeat,
Cecil Taylor,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.