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 Gabon and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Donald Fagen 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 Alice Coltrane 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sex Pistols,
Toni Rubio,
Massinfluence,
Deakin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Max Romeo,
Buzzcocks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fortunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Anakelly,
Michelle Simonal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Suicide,
David Bowie,
Sandy B,
Pantytec,
Robert Hood,
Desert Stars,
Jawbox,
The Fire Engines,
The Five Americans,
Gichy Dan,
Terry Callier,
Little Man,
Joy Division,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deepchord,
Susan Cadogan,
Heaven 17,
Kenny Larkin,
DNA,
The Divine Comedy,
The Music Machine,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Association,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sisters of Mercy,
China Crisis,
The United States of America,
Grey Daturas,
Warsaw,
Sugar Minott,
Icehouse,
Swans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Durutti Column,
KRS-One,
Joensuu 1685,
Marine Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Sly & The Family Stone,
June Days,
Colin Newman,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.