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 Comoros and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fania All-Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Smog,
Byron Stingily,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moleskins,
Bobby Womack,
Prince Buster,
Hardrive,
Porter Ricks,
Hot Snakes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Last Poets,
DJ Sneak,
Spandau Ballet,
Pantaleimon,
Saccharine Trust,
Henry Cow,
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kevin Saunderson,
David Axelrod,
Mantronix,
Mo-Dettes,
Wasted Youth,
Suburban Knight,
Jacob Miller,
Easy Going,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fat Boys,
The Seeds,
The United States of America,
Isaac Hayes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wings,
Deadbeat,
Iggy Pop,
Rosa Yemen,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Smoke,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Flipper,
Danielle Patucci,
New York Dolls,
Model 500,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Searchers,
Roger Hodgson,
Pere Ubu,
Sun City Girls,
Man Parrish,
Bill Wells,
Sight & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Liliput,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.