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 Malawi 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Todd Terry to the dance 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Spoonie Gee,
Max Romeo,
Cameo,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed,
48th St. Collective,
Dead Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Iggy Pop,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Erykah Badu,
Zapp,
The Moody Blues,
Camouflage,
Ludus,
Glambeats Corp.,
Franke,
MC5,
the Bar-Kays,
The Modern Lovers,
Metal Thangz,
Sällskapet,
Siglo XX,
Simply Red,
Joe Finger,
Gang Green,
The Gladiators,
Laurel Aitken,
Dave Gahan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
a-ha,
Bauhaus,
LL Cool J,
Soft Machine,
Eve St. Jones,
Desert Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Average White Band,
Scrapy,
Angry Samoans,
The Black Dice,
John Coltrane,
The Fugs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Raincoats,
June of 44,
Zero Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Fad Gadget,
Donald Byrd,
ABBA,
The Cowsills,
Qualms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Can,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.