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 Russia 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grunge 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Ludus,
Arcadia,
The Music Machine,
Idris Muhammad,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Subhumans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
a-ha,
Aural Exciters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Interpol,
Animal Collective,
Bob Dylan,
Connie Case,
Alison Limerick,
Eden Ahbez,
The Happenings,
The Raincoats,
The United States of America,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Livin' Joy,
Clear Light,
Scion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Andrew Hill,
Brand Nubian,
Unwound,
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Depeche Mode,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Spoonie Gee,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Visage,
John Lydon,
Joensuu 1685,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gabor Szabo,
PIL,
UT,
Joyce Sims,
Brass Construction,
The Stooges,
Rapeman,
Darondo,
Skriet,
Bad Manners,
Steve Hackett,
The Doors,
Gang Starr,
Tres Demented,
Hardrive,
Radiohead,
Flamin' Groovies,
Royal Trux,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.