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 Namibia and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Motorama 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Lucky Dragons,
Rites of Spring,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
Angry Samoans,
New York Dolls,
The Trojans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
KRS-One,
CMW,
Animal Collective,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythm & Sound,
Excepter,
Au Pairs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minnie Riperton,
Robert Wyatt,
Scion,
Quando Quango,
John Lydon,
The Modern Lovers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deadbeat,
Lower 48,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Morten Harket,
Wolf Eyes,
Flash Fearless,
Dark Day,
Altered Images,
Colin Newman,
Ossler,
Reagan Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
EPMD,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Theoretical Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Oneida,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Andrew Hill,
Sight & Sound,
Terry Callier,
Carl Craig,
ABBA,
David Bowie,
Jawbox,
Marvin Gaye,
Dual Sessions,
Fad Gadget,
Pylon,
Hasil Adkins,
Aural Exciters,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.