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 San Marino and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Robert Hood to the grunge 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang Green,
The Searchers,
Mark Hollis,
The Mummies,
Skriet,
Soulsonic Force,
Carl Craig,
Graham Central Station,
The Fuzztones,
The Smiths,
Yazoo,
Agent Orange,
Blake Baxter,
The Modern Lovers,
Pere Ubu,
Man Parrish,
June of 44,
Anakelly,
The Star Department,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Chris & Cosey,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Chris Corsano,
Rosa Yemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wings,
Dual Sessions,
Skaos,
Can,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Organ,
Todd Rundgren,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mantronix,
Surgeon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gories,
The Slackers,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Reed,
Duran Duran,
Flash Fearless,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Stiv Bators,
Ossler,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kenny Larkin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lakeside,
Audionom,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Unrelated Segments,
Pet Shop Boys,
Malaria!,
Harmonia,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.