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 Mauritania and from Beijing.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 Intrusion to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Harry Pussy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Negative Approach,
Ludus,
Danielle Patucci,
H. Thieme,
The Fugs,
The Searchers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Pus,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slackers,
Eve St. Jones,
Blancmange,
Kaleidoscope,
Ronnie Foster,
Andrew Hill,
Radio Birdman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hot Snakes,
K-Klass,
Brick,
Man Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
Groovy Waters,
Trumans Water,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cure,
These Immortal Souls,
Soul Sonic Force,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Half Japanese,
Amon Düül,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moss Icon,
Little Man,
The Associates,
Glambeats Corp.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Divine Comedy,
Jacques Brel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roger Hodgson,
Eden Ahbez,
Duran Duran,
Eddi Front,
Tropical Tobacco,
June Days,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Soft Cell,
Fatback Band,
The Raincoats,
Bob Dylan,
Cybotron,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Beau Brummels,
Magma,
The Monks,
The Pop Group,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.