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 Nicaragua and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Red Krayola to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Todd Terry,
World's Most,
Maurizio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lucky Dragons,
R.M.O.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yazoo,
Man Parrish,
Black Flag,
Rufus Thomas,
Heaven 17,
Don Cherry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pole,
kango's stein massive,
Blossom Toes,
Dennis Brown,
Wolf Eyes,
Vladislav Delay,
Shuggie Otis,
Rod Modell,
The Zeros,
The Kinks,
T. Rex,
Cameo,
Sixth Finger,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brick,
Swell Maps,
The Fall,
Babytalk,
Crime,
Alice Coltrane,
Magma,
Connie Case,
Nik Kershaw,
Silicon Teens,
Black Pus,
Aswad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sonic Youth,
The Cramps,
Oblivians,
Janne Schatter,
The Smiths,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marine Girls,
Bang On A Can,
Roxy Music,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Archie Shepp,
Pylon,
L. Decosne,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.