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 Syria and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
L. Decosne,
Minnie Riperton,
Eurythmics,
The Angels of Light,
Alphaville,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gun Club,
Shuggie Otis,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fortunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Yusef Lateef,
Davy DMX,
Tears for Fears,
Cybotron,
Suicide,
Charles Mingus,
The Busters,
Average White Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Near,
DNA,
Technova,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Names,
Junior Murvin,
Magazine,
Anthony Braxton,
Surgeon,
Black Bananas,
Brand Nubian,
Supertramp,
Nik Kershaw,
The Black Dice,
Mr. Review,
Brass Construction,
Mad Mike,
The Last Poets,
Fad Gadget,
Excepter,
This Heat,
Half Japanese,
Donald Byrd,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
Mary Jane Girls,
Chris & Cosey,
X-Ray Spex,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cameo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bang On A Can,
The Walker Brothers,
Hot Snakes,
Spandau Ballet,
The Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eric Copeland,
Joy Division,
Porter Ricks,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.