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 Belize and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Desert Stars to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
the Bar-Kays,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jacques Brel,
the Association,
Susan Cadogan,
James White and The Blacks,
Yellowson,
New York Dolls,
Black Moon,
the Swans,
The Pretty Things,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Count Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Harmonia,
Parry Music,
Lalann,
Flamin' Groovies,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Wells,
Cal Tjader,
Glenn Branca,
Section 25,
Drive Like Jehu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skriet,
Brand Nubian,
Blancmange,
Bootsy Collins,
The Trojans,
Barrington Levy,
the Fania All-Stars,
JFA,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Crispy Ambulance,
Metal Thangz,
Q and Not U,
The Barracudas,
Zapp,
The Divine Comedy,
The Residents,
Newcleus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Intrusion,
Rhythm & Sound,
Franke,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Peter and Kerry,
Blake Baxter,
Model 500,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Evens,
the Sonics,
Man Parrish,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
New Order,
Fort Wilson Riot,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scrapy,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.