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 Peru and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the disco 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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Stockholm Monsters,
This Heat,
John Foxx,
Flipper,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dark Day,
The Music Machine,
Surgeon,
The Smiths,
The Fortunes,
Ohio Players,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sound Behaviour,
Cymande,
Swell Maps,
Tommy Roe,
The Busters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Happenings,
Scion,
Joyce Sims,
Swans,
Leonard Cohen,
Sun City Girls,
Howard Jones,
The Golliwogs,
Model 500,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eurythmics,
Grauzone,
Tears for Fears,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stiv Bators,
One Last Wish,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gun Club,
Black Flag,
Harry Pussy,
Charles Mingus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Little Man,
Cal Tjader,
Ornette Coleman,
James White and The Blacks,
F. McDonald,
Vainqueur,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Hardrive,
Joey Negro,
The Associates,
T.S.O.L.,
Panda Bear,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grey Daturas,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.