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 Cambodia and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Gang Gang Dance to the rock 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cheater Slicks,
Fela Kuti,
Rosa Yemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Index,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bill Near,
Wasted Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Aaron Thompson,
Das Ding,
Motorama,
The Dirtbombs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Idris Muhammad,
Index,
Television,
Lyres,
Flipper,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Main Source,
Audionom,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Johnny Osbourne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
F. McDonald,
The Human League,
Monks,
KRS-One,
Eli Mardock,
Yazoo,
Ken Boothe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minutemen,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dead C,
Camberwell Now,
Angry Samoans,
Simply Red,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
48th St. Collective,
Metal Thangz,
The Velvet Underground,
Lakeside,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang of Four,
Erasure,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.