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 Slovenia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barbara Tucker to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Neu!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Susan Cadogan,
Tears for Fears,
Reagan Youth,
John Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
Fatback Band,
H. Thieme,
Tim Buckley,
The Slits,
Radio Birdman,
Sam Rivers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eden Ahbez,
The Music Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Tremeloes,
Peter and Kerry,
Joensuu 1685,
The Index,
Mantronix,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Whodini,
Slick Rick,
Mandrill,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Andrew Hill,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sex Pistols,
The Walker Brothers,
Toni Rubio,
The Evens,
Magma,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ornette Coleman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Buzzcocks,
Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Litter,
Roger Hodgson,
Brass Construction,
Faust,
The Grass Roots,
Simply Red,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gun Club,
Public Image Ltd.,
Japan,
Graham Central Station,
June of 44,
Freddie Wadling,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.