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 Belgium and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Icehouse to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Crooked Eye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Piero Umiliani,
Nick Fraelich,
Shoche,
David Bowie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Niagra,
Andrew Hill,
Camberwell Now,
Alphaville,
D'Angelo,
Nas,
Scion,
Godley & Creme,
The Walker Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Iggy Pop,
Gabor Szabo,
The Index,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Symarip,
Eve St. Jones,
the Human League,
Fugazi,
Yellowson,
Mr. Review,
Ronnie Foster,
Moby Grape,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Normal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Soulsonic Force,
David McCallum,
Swans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sarah Menescal,
Joe Finger,
Animal Collective,
James White and The Blacks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Robert Hood,
cv313,
Royal Trux,
Arab on Radar,
The Red Krayola,
Monolake,
Shuggie Otis,
Minor Threat,
Patti Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
Lower 48,
Intrusion,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tubeway Army,
Joy Division,
Aloha Tigers,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.