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 Rwanda and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rap 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
X-102,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kenny Larkin,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
K-Klass,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris & Cosey,
The American Breed,
Rapeman,
The Selecter,
Bob Dylan,
The Gap Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Joensuu 1685,
The Moleskins,
Lalann,
Siglo XX,
Nils Olav,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nik Kershaw,
Wasted Youth,
The Modern Lovers,
Kas Product,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aural Exciters,
The Raincoats,
Heaven 17,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Slave,
Trumans Water,
Lou Christie,
Dawn Penn,
Skriet,
Wolf Eyes,
Steve Hackett,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
PIL,
Make Up,
Piero Umiliani,
Al Stewart,
The Neon Judgement,
Pussy Galore,
Ralphi Rosario,
H. Thieme,
T. Rex,
Arab on Radar,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brass Construction,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masters at Work,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crooked Eye,
Sparks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.