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 Czech Republic and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minor Threat 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
the Human League,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bill Near,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quantec,
Rapeman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Piero Umiliani,
Scrapy,
The Techniques,
Aaron Thompson,
Aloha Tigers,
The Kinks,
kango's stein massive,
PIL,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bad Manners,
Lyres,
The Vogues,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Barracudas,
The Neon Judgement,
Connie Case,
Susan Cadogan,
Livin' Joy,
Lower 48,
The Young Rascals,
Shoche,
One Last Wish,
Groovy Waters,
Icehouse,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Count Five,
Scan 7,
The Offenders,
Derrick May,
Q65,
Soft Machine,
Grey Daturas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Qualms,
Franke,
Television,
Donald Byrd,
Symarip,
Little Man,
Yazoo,
Circle Jerks,
The Gap Band,
Marmalade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soul II Soul,
Eli Mardock,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
OOIOO,
Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
The Busters,
Soulsonic Force,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.