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 Qatar and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crime to the disco 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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Maleditus Sound,
Aural Exciters,
Eve St. Jones,
Fluxion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Infiniti,
Supertramp,
Index,
The Sonics,
David McCallum,
Blake Baxter,
Alice Coltrane,
A Certain Ratio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hashim,
Television Personalities,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roxette,
the Slits,
The Last Poets,
Schoolly D,
Saccharine Trust,
Y Pants,
John Lydon,
The Skatalites,
Graham Central Station,
Isaac Hayes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ossler,
Amazonics,
Lalann,
Whodini,
The Happenings,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Slackers,
Agent Orange,
Hot Snakes,
Stiv Bators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T.S.O.L.,
Ohio Players,
The Wake,
Procol Harum,
The Fuzztones,
Rites of Spring,
Eric Copeland,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stereo Dub,
The Evens,
Joe Smooth,
Minnie Riperton,
Charles Mingus,
Brass Construction,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Don Cherry,
Mantronix,
Pantaleimon,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.