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 Kosovo and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Thompson Twins to the rap 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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Kinks,
Metal Thangz,
Vainqueur,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Magma,
The Fuzztones,
FM Einheit,
The Slackers,
The Sonics,
Idris Muhammad,
X-102,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scientists,
OOIOO,
The Raincoats,
Lindisfarne,
Brothers Johnson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Alphaville,
Blossom Toes,
Circle Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
The Searchers,
Talk Talk,
Arab on Radar,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pussy Galore,
The Birthday Party,
Yazoo,
These Immortal Souls,
E-Dancer,
Dark Day,
Blake Baxter,
Soft Cell,
the Bar-Kays,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Excepter,
Gichy Dan,
Qualms,
Connie Case,
Mantronix,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Cure,
Sun City Girls,
UT,
Bobby Byrd,
Panda Bear,
Eli Mardock,
Glambeats Corp.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harry Pussy,
Babytalk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mr. Review,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.