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 Namibia and from Mumbai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slackers,
Scott Walker,
Tom Boy,
The Birthday Party,
EPMD,
Eddi Front,
Japan,
Pierre Henry,
Supertramp,
Simply Red,
DJ Style,
Ten City,
Alison Limerick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moss Icon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scratch Acid,
Television Personalities,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mr. Review,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fatback Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Index,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Funkadelic,
Man Parrish,
Black Flag,
Crooked Eye,
Section 25,
the Swans,
Echospace,
Tommy Roe,
Lou Christie,
Colin Newman,
The Searchers,
Cluster,
Roxette,
The Black Dice,
Mars,
Michelle Simonal,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Offenders,
The Saints,
Pussy Galore,
Interpol,
Organ,
Byron Stingily,
Crime,
Liliput,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oneida,
Ronan,
Youth Brigade,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.