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 Panama and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes 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 The Tremeloes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Minny Pops,
K-Klass,
Surgeon,
Masters at Work,
China Crisis,
Mandrill,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultravox,
Erasure,
Man Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mantronix,
The Saints,
Black Sheep,
The Music Machine,
Adolescents,
Hasil Adkins,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Womack,
Minnie Riperton,
Youth Brigade,
Dead Boys,
Second Layer,
The Vogues,
Yaz,
Cymande,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sandy B,
Procol Harum,
Pantaleimon,
John Cale,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Robert Hood,
The Durutti Column,
T. Rex,
Franke,
Bootsy Collins,
the Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Connie Case,
The Residents,
Electric Prunes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
cv313,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sarah Menescal,
Lucky Dragons,
Marine Girls,
Arab on Radar,
The Black Dice,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Carl Craig,
The Selecter,
The Toasters,
R.M.O.,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.