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 Bahamas and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Yaz 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Cal Tjader,
Deadbeat,
Mandrill,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barclay James Harvest,
Silicon Teens,
Clear Light,
Shuggie Otis,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Cale,
Gichy Dan,
Man Parrish,
Hot Snakes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fire Engines,
Aaron Thompson,
Sugar Minott,
Cameo,
Bill Wells,
The Seeds,
Nick Fraelich,
Toni Rubio,
Barbara Tucker,
Henry Cow,
Roxy Music,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dirtbombs,
Bronski Beat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yaz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Yellowson,
Babytalk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Todd Terry,
New Order,
Charles Mingus,
John Coltrane,
The Misunderstood,
Black Moon,
Ornette Coleman,
Subhumans,
Popol Vuh,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Theoretical Girls,
Au Pairs,
Joyce Sims,
Whodini,
Albert Ayler,
The Mojo Men,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soft Cell,
Unwound,
U.S. Maple,
Supertramp,
Joey Negro,
Oblivians,
Harry Pussy,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.