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 Brunei and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Wolf Eyes to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skaos,
Schoolly D,
the Soft Cell,
Nation of Ulysses,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Darondo,
Lalann,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stetsasonic,
D'Angelo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joe Smooth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-101,
Siglo XX,
David Axelrod,
The Birthday Party,
Patti Smith,
June Days,
Joe Finger,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Davy DMX,
Ossler,
Nirvana,
Glenn Branca,
the Human League,
Dark Day,
Janne Schatter,
Wings,
Steve Hackett,
Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
Funkadelic,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sight & Sound,
Sonic Youth,
The Gap Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Archie Shepp,
Jeff Mills,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Alice Coltrane,
The Misunderstood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Christie,
Dead Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
cv313,
Robert Görl,
Ohio Players,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wally Richardson,
Jerry's Kids,
Monolake,
Tears for Fears,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.