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 Uganda and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slackers,
10cc,
The Zeros,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Supertramp,
The United States of America,
Black Flag,
The Blues Magoos,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rosa Yemen,
The Angels of Light,
Thee Headcoats,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brothers Johnson,
Marc Almond,
cv313,
Susan Cadogan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Panda Bear,
Sonny Sharrock,
Slave,
Lyres,
Black Bananas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Neil Young,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Graham Central Station,
Swell Maps,
Saccharine Trust,
Roxette,
Morten Harket,
John Cale,
The Fugs,
Mo-Dettes,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Index,
Icehouse,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Henry Cow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Patti Smith,
F. McDonald,
Terry Callier,
Fad Gadget,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joensuu 1685,
Das Ding,
The Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Busters,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Prunes,
Japan,
Sarah Menescal,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.