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 Mauritania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 Nico to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tears for Fears,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thompson Twins,
Khruangbin,
EPMD,
The Associates,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fugs,
Severed Heads,
The Saints,
Hoover,
The Barracudas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Talk Talk,
Hardrive,
H. Thieme,
Sun City Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Don Cherry,
Moebius,
Deakin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
ABBA,
Stereo Dub,
the Human League,
Lightning Bolt,
Darondo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mandrill,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Womack,
Brand Nubian,
Pantytec,
Outsiders,
Yaz,
Soul II Soul,
Stiv Bators,
UT,
The Kinks,
Main Source,
Animal Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jacob Miller,
Au Pairs,
In Retrospect,
John Cale,
Fatback Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Supertramp,
The Motions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Davy DMX,
Organ,
Derrick Morgan,
Tim Buckley,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.