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 Mozambique and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pantytec to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
T. Rex,
Ten City,
Simply Red,
Althea and Donna,
Jawbox,
Funkadelic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Josef K,
Nirvana,
The Happenings,
Faust,
Siglo XX,
The Move,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Music Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Erykah Badu,
Ronan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Matthew Halsall,
Cybotron,
Bush Tetras,
Deakin,
This Heat,
Gong,
Harry Pussy,
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shoche,
Technova,
Man Parrish,
Barry Ungar,
Marmalade,
The Selecter,
Anakelly,
Massinfluence,
The Blues Magoos,
L. Decosne,
Glenn Branca,
Connie Case,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Subhumans,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
Terry Callier,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pantytec,
Pussy Galore,
Blancmange,
Robert Hood,
H. Thieme,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aloha Tigers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Maleditus Sound,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacques Brel,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.