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 Ukraine and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
The Dirtbombs,
Camberwell Now,
Juan Atkins,
Panda Bear,
Mars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bootsy Collins,
Maurizio,
The Saints,
Prince Buster,
Sight & Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Joyce Sims,
Barry Ungar,
Das Ding,
Cecil Taylor,
Minutemen,
Underground Resistance,
Sun Ra,
OOIOO,
Harry Pussy,
The Tremeloes,
Babytalk,
T. Rex,
Second Layer,
Agitation Free,
Hasil Adkins,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Sherman,
The Moody Blues,
Patti Smith,
Erasure,
Jimmy McGriff,
Half Japanese,
Al Stewart,
The J.B.'s,
Sex Pistols,
Basic Channel,
Scientists,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Pop Group,
DNA,
UT,
Grey Daturas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lightning Bolt,
Saccharine Trust,
Todd Terry,
Stereo Dub,
Chris Corsano,
Jeff Mills,
The Sisters of Mercy,
China Crisis,
Black Moon,
Warsaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
The Evens,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bob Dylan,
The Standells,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.