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 Mongolia and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crispy Ambulance to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox 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 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
The Litter,
Silicon Teens,
Das Ding,
The Names,
Marvin Gaye,
Moss Icon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Godley & Creme,
Animal Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ohio Players,
Los Fastidios,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy Collins,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultravox,
New Order,
The United States of America,
The Saints,
Zapp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cybotron,
Derrick Morgan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
H. Thieme,
Roxy Music,
T.S.O.L.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sparks,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Womack,
Kerri Chandler,
Dave Gahan,
Maurizio,
Soulsonic Force,
John Cale,
the Fania All-Stars,
Erasure,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Five Americans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Star Department,
Newcleus,
James White and The Blacks,
Popol Vuh,
Faust,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brass Construction,
Minny Pops,
X-Ray Spex,
Dark Day,
The Slackers,
Make Up,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.