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 Azerbaijan and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the funk 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Q65,
Fluxion,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kurtis Blow,
AZ,
Ludus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tres Demented,
Rotary Connection,
Agent Orange,
The Divine Comedy,
Angry Samoans,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cure,
Darondo,
Aaron Thompson,
The New Christs,
Derrick Morgan,
Arthur Verocai,
The United States of America,
Model 500,
Robert Wyatt,
Dave Gahan,
Royal Trux,
Crime,
Mars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pylon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flash Fearless,
Flipper,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
ABBA,
Peter and Kerry,
Donny Hathaway,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The J.B.'s,
Moebius,
The Knickerbockers,
Fela Kuti,
La Düsseldorf,
Lebanon Hanover,
Zero Boys,
Vladislav Delay,
Circle Jerks,
The Walker Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
The Busters,
Spoonie Gee,
Motorama,
KRS-One,
D'Angelo,
Pantytec,
cv313,
This Heat,
Grey Daturas,
Skriet,
Funky Four + One,
Von Mondo,
Gong,
The Alarm Clocks,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.