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 Kuwait and from London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Five Americans to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
L. Decosne,
David Bowie,
June Days,
Byron Stingily,
The Real Kids,
Organ,
The Martian,
Monolake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spandau Ballet,
Lalo Schifrin,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Swans,
Easy Going,
Joe Smooth,
The Fortunes,
Whodini,
Black Flag,
Das Ding,
Radiopuhelimet,
New Age Steppers,
Model 500,
Slick Rick,
Royal Trux,
Sex Pistols,
The Buckinghams,
Eric Copeland,
Unwound,
Jawbox,
John Foxx,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Donald Byrd,
Stereo Dub,
Boz Scaggs,
Spoonie Gee,
Nico,
Patti Smith,
Anakelly,
Robert Wyatt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quantec,
Moss Icon,
Andrew Hill,
Alphaville,
Brick,
Unrelated Segments,
Soulsonic Force,
DNA,
MDC,
Agent Orange,
The Slackers,
10cc,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sixth Finger,
PIL,
Echospace,
Hardrive,
John Coltrane,
Aloha Tigers,
Brothers Johnson,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.