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 France and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Iggy Pop to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Gichy Dan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minny Pops,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Association,
Marc Almond,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Bananas,
Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Juan Atkins,
Minutemen,
T. Rex,
The Wake,
Wolf Eyes,
Japan,
Lucky Dragons,
Groovy Waters,
Don Cherry,
Livin' Joy,
Kurtis Blow,
Hot Snakes,
Blossom Toes,
Henry Cow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Organ,
Q65,
Brass Construction,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monochrome Set,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Moleskins,
Wasted Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tropical Tobacco,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amazonics,
Hoover,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Marine Girls,
The Real Kids,
Pussy Galore,
The Saints,
New Age Steppers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cal Tjader,
Dennis Brown,
Peter & Gordon,
Theoretical Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
New York Dolls,
Todd Rundgren,
Trumans Water,
Joey Negro,
Althea and Donna,
Junior Murvin,
X-Ray Spex,
Siglo XX,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Blackbyrds,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.