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 Zimbabwe and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Patti Smith to the grime 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
New York Dolls,
John Lydon,
John Coltrane,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Womack,
Jawbox,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Sherman,
The Kinks,
Rekid,
the Sonics,
Sixth Finger,
Heaven 17,
Cluster,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soft Cell,
Pantytec,
Amon Düül II,
Talk Talk,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Bananas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fad Gadget,
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scrapy,
Guru Guru,
Funky Four + One,
Hashim,
The Monks,
Fugazi,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jimmy McGriff,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Pus,
Bush Tetras,
Bizarre Inc.,
Peter & Gordon,
Alphaville,
Ken Boothe,
MDC,
Sonic Youth,
The Gories,
Oblivians,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Colin Newman,
Tom Boy,
Mars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Erasure,
Babytalk,
Rufus Thomas,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arab on Radar,
Monolake,
Radiohead,
Isaac Hayes,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.