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 Guinea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The American Breed to the rap 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tom Boy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Red Krayola,
The Fugs,
Country Teasers,
10cc,
Harry Pussy,
The Misunderstood,
Newcleus,
Arthur Verocai,
FM Einheit,
Magma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sun City Girls,
Yazoo,
Hot Snakes,
the Sonics,
The J.B.'s,
Isaac Hayes,
Mr. Review,
Harmonia,
Godley & Creme,
Suicide,
Scion,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Panda Bear,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Funky Four + One,
Juan Atkins,
The Grass Roots,
Soul II Soul,
Outsiders,
The Trojans,
Echospace,
Andrew Hill,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mojo Men,
Neu!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Duran Duran,
Public Enemy,
Bootsy Collins,
Visage,
Bob Dylan,
The Evens,
Silicon Teens,
Crispy Ambulance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moebius,
Tears for Fears,
Ornette Coleman,
Delta 5,
Lalann,
The Divine Comedy,
Fluxion,
Hardrive,
Barbara Tucker,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.