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 Lithuania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ralphi Rosario to the techno 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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scientists,
Camberwell Now,
The Vogues,
The Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Metal Thangz,
Tomorrow,
Lalann,
The Mummies,
Derrick May,
Bobby Byrd,
Jawbox,
Supertramp,
Boogie Down Productions,
Motorama,
Marshall Jefferson,
Erykah Badu,
Hot Snakes,
Ohio Players,
The Fugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chrome,
MC5,
Mantronix,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lyres,
One Last Wish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Warren Ellis,
X-101,
Schoolly D,
Arab on Radar,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flipper,
Blake Baxter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Electric Prunes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eurythmics,
Pylon,
Robert Wyatt,
The Doors,
Glambeats Corp.,
The United States of America,
Scratch Acid,
Wire,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Last Poets,
Gong,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Malaria!,
Lungfish,
cv313,
The Durutti Column,
Sex Pistols,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.