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 Senegal and from Houston.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 Cheater Slicks to the grunge 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bang On A Can,
Byron Stingily,
Youth Brigade,
Pharoah Sanders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Christie,
The Happenings,
The Stooges,
Vladislav Delay,
Crime,
U.S. Maple,
Fatback Band,
Barry Ungar,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smiths,
Wasted Youth,
The Fuzztones,
Blancmange,
The Cure,
Funkadelic,
D'Angelo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grey Daturas,
Carl Craig,
Easy Going,
Todd Rundgren,
Delon & Dalcan,
Soft Machine,
Rod Modell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crash Course in Science,
The Beau Brummels,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blake Baxter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Accadde A,
Motorama,
Gang Green,
Barrington Levy,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Remains,
One Last Wish,
The Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Pussy Galore,
Bad Manners,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fortunes,
Deepchord,
The Divine Comedy,
DJ Style,
The Gap Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Boredoms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Sherman,
Harmonia,
The Index,
Frankie Knuckles,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.