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 Laos and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Donald Fagen 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 Pop Group to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Carl Craig,
Echospace,
Urselle,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Dual Sessions,
The Victims,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris Corsano,
Boz Scaggs,
Deakin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Camberwell Now,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Pus,
John Foxx,
Average White Band,
The Searchers,
Bobby Womack,
Blossom Toes,
Sex Pistols,
Bronski Beat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fat Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yusef Lateef,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Easy Going,
Pussy Galore,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Toni Rubio,
The Saints,
Negative Approach,
Circle Jerks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Reuben Wilson,
David Bowie,
Con Funk Shun,
Patti Smith,
Q and Not U,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Golliwogs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Porter Ricks,
Sällskapet,
Hashim,
Franke,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fluxion,
Sarah Menescal,
Sixth Finger,
Depeche Mode,
The Detroit Cobras,
X-102,
Eric Copeland,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Slits,
Oneida,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.