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 Switzerland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Dice to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Lucky Dragons,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fall,
Half Japanese,
Jandek,
Nils Olav,
Minnie Riperton,
Make Up,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cosmic Jokers,
a-ha,
The Misunderstood,
Dave Gahan,
Depeche Mode,
Gregory Isaacs,
Byron Stingily,
Buzzcocks,
Sugar Minott,
Sun Ra,
Severed Heads,
Lower 48,
Howard Jones,
Aural Exciters,
Rod Modell,
Vainqueur,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rekid,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter and Kerry,
ABC,
EPMD,
ABBA,
Television,
Oneida,
Groovy Waters,
Livin' Joy,
Faraquet,
cv313,
the Bar-Kays,
Crooked Eye,
Fugazi,
Suicide,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fugs,
Cybotron,
Swans,
Slick Rick,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Slits,
The Offenders,
June of 44,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Country Teasers,
Camouflage,
Subhumans,
Dual Sessions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Arthur Verocai,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.