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 Indonesia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Cowsills to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Bobby Sherman,
The Index,
Donny Hathaway,
Gregory Isaacs,
Radio Birdman,
Boredoms,
Crime,
David Bowie,
Tim Buckley,
The Kinks,
The Gories,
Fluxion,
Mr. Review,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lower 48,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Animal Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeff Mills,
Black Flag,
Alton Ellis,
Drive Like Jehu,
E-Dancer,
Heaven 17,
The Doors,
Lungfish,
The Standells,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Music Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
Henry Cow,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nas,
Pere Ubu,
Visage,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alice Coltrane,
Skarface,
The Offenders,
Big Daddy Kane,
Amon Düül,
Maurizio,
Ultravox,
Wings,
Delon & Dalcan,
Subhumans,
Los Fastidios,
Man Eating Sloth,
R.M.O.,
Loose Ends,
Fear,
Japan,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.