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 Benin and from Philadelphia.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeff Mills to the disco 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Fatback Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Steve Hackett,
The Electric Prunes,
Barbara Tucker,
Fluxion,
The Smoke,
X-102,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cosmic Jokers,
FM Einheit,
Piero Umiliani,
Mo-Dettes,
Eddi Front,
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
Von Mondo,
Rotary Connection,
Joey Negro,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABC,
Neil Young,
John Holt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blake Baxter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Invisible,
Bobby Sherman,
Das Ding,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harry Pussy,
Godley & Creme,
Mantronix,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moebius,
Gabor Szabo,
Robert Görl,
The Flesh Eaters,
MDC,
Fugazi,
Mandrill,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
cv313,
Colin Newman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalann,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tomorrow,
Saccharine Trust,
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Halsall,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blues Magoos,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cramps,
The Gun Club,
China Crisis,
Skriet,
Roxette,
The Zeros,
Roger Hodgson,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.