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 Slovakia and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord 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 Swell Maps to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
DJ Sneak,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gladiators,
The United States of America,
The Martian,
The Beau Brummels,
Mad Mike,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joe Finger,
Henry Cow,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lightning Bolt,
Roxette,
Black Moon,
Anthony Braxton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barbara Tucker,
X-101,
U.S. Maple,
Fatback Band,
H. Thieme,
Easy Going,
Public Enemy,
Wings,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Holt,
Jacques Brel,
Sex Pistols,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Pretty Things,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Alphaville,
Mr. Review,
Slave,
Tom Boy,
Gang Green,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Hutcherson,
David Axelrod,
Reagan Youth,
Erasure,
The American Breed,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Circle Jerks,
The Doors,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Siglo XX,
James White and The Blacks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ornette Coleman,
Man Parrish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Crooked Eye,
The Invisible,
Amon Düül,
Wire,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.