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 Macedonia and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the rock 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons 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?
Sight & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Ken Boothe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moleskins,
Soulsonic Force,
Amon Düül,
Moss Icon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cal Tjader,
Davy DMX,
Skarface,
Section 25,
Fela Kuti,
The Wake,
Byron Stingily,
Interpol,
the Normal,
Rufus Thomas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Con Funk Shun,
Eddi Front,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T. Rex,
Mars,
Sandy B,
The Sonics,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Modern Lovers,
Sparks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Last Poets,
Mandrill,
Eve St. Jones,
Swell Maps,
Bootsy Collins,
DJ Style,
The Misunderstood,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tommy Roe,
Whodini,
The Techniques,
Black Moon,
Young Marble Giants,
Donald Byrd,
the Human League,
Boredoms,
Boz Scaggs,
Alton Ellis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Shuggie Otis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Near,
Eurythmics,
Scion,
Grauzone,
Clear Light,
The Young Rascals,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.