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 Slovakia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 KRS-One to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Bad Manners,
Sam Rivers,
Wire,
Altered Images,
Excepter,
Cymande,
Lou Christie,
Yaz,
Moebius,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dark Day,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Massinfluence,
U.S. Maple,
Magazine,
UT,
The Saints,
Michelle Simonal,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joy Division,
KRS-One,
Lucky Dragons,
The Gladiators,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harpers Bizarre,
Symarip,
Pagans,
Bang On A Can,
Warren Ellis,
Man Parrish,
Main Source,
Suicide,
Goldenarms,
Bush Tetras,
Inner City,
Babytalk,
World's Most,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Index,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultimate Spinach,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Flag,
Anakelly,
Royal Trux,
Kerri Chandler,
Average White Band,
Harmonia,
Johnny Osbourne,
Drexciya,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott Heron,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Audionom,
Davy DMX,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mad Mike,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.