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 Sudan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Con Funk Shun to the electroclash 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Prince Buster,
David McCallum,
Davy DMX,
Adolescents,
Joe Finger,
Whodini,
The Electric Prunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Groovy Waters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hoover,
The Leaves,
James White and The Blacks,
Harmonia,
John Coltrane,
The Fortunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Loose Ends,
The J.B.'s,
Matthew Halsall,
The Doors,
Basic Channel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tom Boy,
Marc Almond,
UT,
Bang On A Can,
Black Moon,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slackers,
Kurtis Blow,
Yazoo,
Wire,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cameo,
Sarah Menescal,
The Toasters,
Slick Rick,
Carl Craig,
New Order,
Make Up,
Fela Kuti,
Minny Pops,
Interpol,
Barry Ungar,
Eli Mardock,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
Liliput,
Das Ding,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Peter & Gordon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mad Mike,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Names,
Oneida,
Nirvana,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultravox,
Agitation Free,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.