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 Spain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Camouflage to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Fugazi,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Letta Mbulu,
Dawn Penn,
Swans,
Nick Fraelich,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Sherman,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dead Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Eden Ahbez,
Maleditus Sound,
Tears for Fears,
Little Man,
Wasted Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Max Romeo,
Donald Byrd,
Angry Samoans,
Altered Images,
Outsiders,
AZ,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ossler,
Lalann,
Spandau Ballet,
The Residents,
MC5,
Sex Pistols,
Grauzone,
The Fugs,
Shuggie Otis,
Livin' Joy,
The Martian,
Bush Tetras,
Radiohead,
Procol Harum,
Suicide,
Erykah Badu,
Marvin Gaye,
Inner City,
Tubeway Army,
The Saints,
Kayak,
The Trojans,
Magazine,
Mandrill,
Masters at Work,
OOIOO,
Buzzcocks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Supertramp,
Charles Mingus,
Black Sheep,
10cc,
Severed Heads,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.