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 Ecuador and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Zapp to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Sparks,
JFA,
Soulsonic Force,
Siglo XX,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Mary Jane Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Neon Judgement,
Simply Red,
Scion,
Bluetip,
Bauhaus,
Darondo,
The Gories,
Lou Christie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Amazonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Aural Exciters,
Mad Mike,
Eddi Front,
Ultimate Spinach,
Iggy Pop,
the Bar-Kays,
Yazoo,
Subhumans,
Fad Gadget,
The Offenders,
Los Fastidios,
Niagra,
Letta Mbulu,
The Litter,
Juan Atkins,
Amon Düül,
Whodini,
Procol Harum,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Beau Brummels,
Marine Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rosa Yemen,
Easy Going,
The Martian,
Basic Channel,
Q and Not U,
Oblivians,
Ultra Naté,
Adolescents,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sällskapet,
KRS-One,
Neil Young,
Dead Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Technova,
Cymande,
Negative Approach,
Swans,
Royal Trux,
Minny Pops,
The Dirtbombs,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.