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 Kenya and from New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Birthday Party to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Schoolly D,
Sound Behaviour,
Skarface,
Unwound,
Cluster,
Rites of Spring,
Deepchord,
Bluetip,
Marine Girls,
Rapeman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Subhumans,
The Motions,
Theoretical Girls,
The Sonics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Wings,
Bauhaus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Sherman,
The Toasters,
Duran Duran,
Derrick May,
Blancmange,
Hashim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Smog,
AZ,
Althea and Donna,
Massinfluence,
Interpol,
Panda Bear,
The Kinks,
Au Pairs,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Almond,
Howard Jones,
Junior Murvin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pole,
Essential Logic,
Ice-T,
Soul II Soul,
Radiohead,
John Cale,
Index,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camberwell Now,
Eddi Front,
Shoche,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Icehouse,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dave Gahan,
Amon Düül II,
Matthew Halsall,
The Monks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.