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 Malaysia and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ 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 Monks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord 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 harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Japan,
Lightning Bolt,
the Slits,
Michelle Simonal,
Brothers Johnson,
Soft Machine,
F. McDonald,
Slick Rick,
Shoche,
June Days,
Black Moon,
Joy Division,
Surgeon,
E-Dancer,
The Selecter,
The Gun Club,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
Janne Schatter,
Arcadia,
Drexciya,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Mummies,
Schoolly D,
Radio Birdman,
Alice Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
Kerri Chandler,
Rekid,
Theoretical Girls,
Dead Boys,
The Fortunes,
The Techniques,
Juan Atkins,
Gang of Four,
Pere Ubu,
Todd Rundgren,
EPMD,
DJ Sneak,
Interpol,
Accadde A,
Leonard Cohen,
Lyres,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Coltrane,
Depeche Mode,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Panda Bear,
Tears for Fears,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacob Miller,
Kaleidoscope,
Howard Jones,
Ohio Players,
Banda Bassotti,
The Skatalites,
Talk Talk,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Index,
Pierre Henry,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Trojans,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.