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 Georgia and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe 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 The Pop Group to the techno 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang of Four,
Mantronix,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rakim,
Make Up,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
Siglo XX,
Cluster,
The Fugs,
Easy Going,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
PIL,
The Gun Club,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Five Americans,
The Trojans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Guru Guru,
Joey Negro,
Cybotron,
Theoretical Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
JFA,
Malaria!,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Blossom Toes,
Spandau Ballet,
Desert Stars,
Man Parrish,
X-101,
Newcleus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cal Tjader,
Pole,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Graham Central Station,
MDC,
Matthew Halsall,
Livin' Joy,
Slave,
The Remains,
Zero Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Bootsy Collins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yazoo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Section 25,
T. Rex,
The Raincoats,
Monolake,
Eric Copeland,
David Axelrod,
The Kinks,
Marmalade,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.