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 Cape Verde and from Beijing.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Letta Mbulu to the rap 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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
10cc,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sonics,
AZ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare,
Faust,
Bootsy Collins,
Byron Stingily,
Black Bananas,
Icehouse,
Nas,
Scott Walker,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sister Nancy,
The Monks,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Public Enemy,
Lalann,
In Retrospect,
The Blues Magoos,
Hardrive,
Mr. Review,
Fad Gadget,
Vladislav Delay,
John Cale,
Morten Harket,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Easy Going,
Eddi Front,
The Leaves,
Section 25,
Pierre Henry,
Livin' Joy,
Fear,
Cal Tjader,
Average White Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Piero Umiliani,
Bob Dylan,
Gong,
Y Pants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tears for Fears,
Lyres,
The Birthday Party,
The Associates,
Sonic Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
The Modern Lovers,
Talk Talk,
E-Dancer,
The Fall,
Idris Muhammad,
Jimmy McGriff,
Saccharine Trust,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crime,
T.S.O.L.,
Swell Maps,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.