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 Sri Lanka and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 X-102 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Saccharine Trust,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crooked Eye,
The Techniques,
Suburban Knight,
Barry Ungar,
Jandek,
Deepchord,
World's Most,
Excepter,
Lindisfarne,
Qualms,
The Gladiators,
Iggy Pop,
Alison Limerick,
The Beau Brummels,
F. McDonald,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Walker Brothers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Warren Ellis,
The Blackbyrds,
Sex Pistols,
Thompson Twins,
Todd Terry,
The Litter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
cv313,
Au Pairs,
Gil Scott Heron,
D'Angelo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
PIL,
Harry Pussy,
Young Marble Giants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Loose Ends,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Grass Roots,
Cheater Slicks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Reagan Youth,
The Motions,
Negative Approach,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lower 48,
a-ha,
Black Bananas,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kayak,
Davy DMX,
Yusef Lateef,
Ornette Coleman,
The Count Five,
Harpers Bizarre,
Big Daddy Kane,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.