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 Saudi Arabia and from Halifax.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Absolute Body Control to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Graham Central Station,
The Last Poets,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
Lightning Bolt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fatback Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Bourne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cal Tjader,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eric Copeland,
Eddi Front,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Martian,
Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
The Tremeloes,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Buckinghams,
Saccharine Trust,
The Zeros,
Bob Dylan,
Mr. Review,
The Flesh Eaters,
Y Pants,
David Axelrod,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Soul II Soul,
Eurythmics,
T.S.O.L.,
Accadde A,
Niagra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Davy DMX,
Joey Negro,
EPMD,
The Litter,
Anthony Braxton,
The Star Department,
Faust,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Parrish,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ludus,
Slick Rick,
The Move,
Scientists,
Rites of Spring,
Magazine,
Wings,
Pet Shop Boys,
X-101,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deadbeat,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.