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 Cape Verde and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rhythm & Sound to the rap 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Von Mondo,
Porter Ricks,
Unrelated Segments,
The Neon Judgement,
Amon Düül,
Blancmange,
Grandmaster Flash,
Intrusion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Beau Brummels,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dark Day,
The Wake,
These Immortal Souls,
The Knickerbockers,
Judy Mowatt,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gladiators,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Bar-Kays,
John Coltrane,
Sex Pistols,
The Moody Blues,
Sam Rivers,
Pagans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Angels of Light,
Ponytail,
The Smiths,
Khruangbin,
Sun Ra,
T.S.O.L.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wire,
Ohio Players,
K-Klass,
Pierre Henry,
Tears for Fears,
Scan 7,
Wings,
Nick Fraelich,
Pussy Galore,
Surgeon,
The Invisible,
Bobby Sherman,
World's Most,
The Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
the Germs,
Faraquet,
Henry Cow,
H. Thieme,
Ultra Naté,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sun City Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Godley & Creme,
Aaron Thompson,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.