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 Korea North and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
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 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Negative Approach to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Minny Pops,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sällskapet,
Spandau Ballet,
Slave,
Joe Smooth,
Altered Images,
Skaos,
Qualms,
Country Teasers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Brand Nubian,
Nils Olav,
Tim Buckley,
Rites of Spring,
Connie Case,
Ultra Naté,
Popol Vuh,
Amon Düül,
Aural Exciters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Invisible,
Wolf Eyes,
Kenny Larkin,
E-Dancer,
Faust,
Donny Hathaway,
June of 44,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Byron Stingily,
Saccharine Trust,
The Moody Blues,
Lucky Dragons,
Tomorrow,
48th St. Collective,
Depeche Mode,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Near,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pole,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yazoo,
Animal Collective,
Talk Talk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pagans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Donald Byrd,
ABBA,
The Beau Brummels,
Eden Ahbez,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.