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 Macedonia and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 organ 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 Rekid to the dance 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Nas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Altered Images,
Flash Fearless,
Magma,
Janne Schatter,
Soulsonic Force,
Soul II Soul,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rosa Yemen,
Marvin Gaye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
ABC,
Agent Orange,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
La Düsseldorf,
The Zeros,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Steve Hackett,
Ornette Coleman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Godley & Creme,
Juan Atkins,
Country Teasers,
Mark Hollis,
Rod Modell,
The Barracudas,
Al Stewart,
The Dead C,
Procol Harum,
The Misunderstood,
MC5,
Peter & Gordon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Holt,
Derrick May,
Johnny Osbourne,
The American Breed,
Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cybotron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
L. Decosne,
Simply Red,
Sister Nancy,
Cecil Taylor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Average White Band,
The Cure,
Second Layer,
Arthur Verocai,
Sarah Menescal,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stiv Bators,
Bluetip,
The Monks,
Section 25,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.