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 Tuvalu and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 Can to the crunk 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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stetsasonic,
In Retrospect,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kas Product,
The Grass Roots,
Soft Cell,
the Sonics,
The Selecter,
Scion,
Ronan,
Boredoms,
EPMD,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Section 25,
Black Pus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arthur Verocai,
The Seeds,
Eden Ahbez,
Gong,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joyce Sims,
Mandrill,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grey Daturas,
Amon Düül,
Robert Hood,
Urselle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Leaves,
Sunsets and Hearts,
DJ Style,
Jawbox,
Barry Ungar,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Slits,
Scott Walker,
Scratch Acid,
Ossler,
Gang Green,
Radiohead,
Vainqueur,
The Real Kids,
Infiniti,
Visage,
Marvin Gaye,
L. Decosne,
Pantaleimon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Amazonics,
Smog,
Fluxion,
Todd Rundgren,
Panda Bear,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Radio Birdman,
Gregory Isaacs,
Inner City,
Bobby Womack,
The Trojans,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.