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 Germany and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator 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 Faraquet to the jazz 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
the Germs,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mummies,
Skarface,
Tubeway Army,
Eden Ahbez,
Stetsasonic,
Harry Pussy,
Susan Cadogan,
Simply Red,
Neil Young,
Jawbox,
Scott Walker,
Ronnie Foster,
Whodini,
The Toasters,
ABBA,
Roxy Music,
Average White Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
The Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
K-Klass,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Howard Jones,
World's Most,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eli Mardock,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Divine Comedy,
Camouflage,
Donald Byrd,
Deadbeat,
Cal Tjader,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Trumans Water,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sällskapet,
Soulsonic Force,
The Invisible,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter & Gordon,
Arthur Verocai,
The Index,
Guru Guru,
Sun City Girls,
Symarip,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Los Fastidios,
Make Up,
Outsiders,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rosa Yemen,
The Pretty Things,
Interpol,
Minnie Riperton,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Busters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.