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 Sri Lanka and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ornette Coleman to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Spoonie Gee,
Smog,
Maurizio,
Ultravox,
Kevin Saunderson,
Zero Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Scott Walker,
Underground Resistance,
Erasure,
The Gories,
Bill Wells,
Roy Ayers,
The Star Department,
Rekid,
Minor Threat,
Black Pus,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Standells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Dead C,
Dual Sessions,
Organ,
The Happenings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pierre Henry,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Görl,
Infiniti,
DNA,
Lightning Bolt,
Judy Mowatt,
Pantytec,
Angry Samoans,
Todd Terry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Zapp,
Alice Coltrane,
Clear Light,
Pylon,
Spandau Ballet,
Fad Gadget,
ABBA,
The Red Krayola,
Avey Tare,
Adolescents,
The Slits,
Mantronix,
Glenn Branca,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fortunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lower 48,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Wake,
Gang Green,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.