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 Saudi Arabia and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Malaria! to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Standells,
Jawbox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
In Retrospect,
Tubeway Army,
Deakin,
Hashim,
Hasil Adkins,
Bootsy Collins,
Warren Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New Order,
David McCallum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Faust,
Tim Buckley,
The Human League,
Skriet,
The Gap Band,
Monks,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Marc Almond,
Sugar Minott,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nico,
Al Stewart,
Fatback Band,
Harry Pussy,
Alice Coltrane,
Quando Quango,
Freddie Wadling,
Rosa Yemen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Young Rascals,
Blake Baxter,
Tres Demented,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Tremeloes,
The Blues Magoos,
Fluxion,
Laurel Aitken,
Janne Schatter,
Kas Product,
The Fortunes,
The Gun Club,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Martian,
Joy Division,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Q65,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
K-Klass,
Glenn Branca,
Thompson Twins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.