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 Micronesia and from Bologna.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 a-ha to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Sam Rivers,
Harmonia,
Unrelated Segments,
Derrick Morgan,
PIL,
Popol Vuh,
Half Japanese,
Average White Band,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cowsills,
Cymande,
Scientists,
Massinfluence,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bizarre Inc.,
Clear Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Wells,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Echospace,
Accadde A,
Arab on Radar,
Amon Düül,
Bootsy Collins,
Circle Jerks,
Rekid,
The Knickerbockers,
8 Eyed Spy,
48th St. Collective,
Albert Ayler,
Henry Cow,
Tres Demented,
Angry Samoans,
AZ,
the Slits,
Ultra Naté,
The Monks,
Goldenarms,
Idris Muhammad,
The Human League,
Vainqueur,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Shuggie Otis,
Man Parrish,
Cecil Taylor,
Roxy Music,
Hasil Adkins,
Hardrive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quando Quango,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fluxion,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vladislav Delay,
Altered Images,
Gabor Szabo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.