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 Uruguay and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bootsy Collins to the dance 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Freddie Wadling,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fortunes,
Minor Threat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Grass Roots,
Gang Green,
The Vogues,
Sun City Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mars,
H. Thieme,
Monks,
Eurythmics,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gladiators,
The Monochrome Set,
Minny Pops,
Yazoo,
Ituana,
Nation of Ulysses,
Make Up,
Pussy Galore,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Unwound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Motions,
Visage,
Cymande,
The Golliwogs,
The Associates,
Scrapy,
Lindisfarne,
Little Man,
Blake Baxter,
Section 25,
Matthew Bourne,
Malaria!,
The Raincoats,
Toni Rubio,
The United States of America,
Fatback Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Smiths,
Siglo XX,
The Last Poets,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
Radio Birdman,
The Tremeloes,
Technova,
Vladislav Delay,
Ronnie Foster,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.