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 Argentina and from Paris.
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 Madrid and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sixth Finger to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Aaron Thompson,
Anthony Braxton,
Roxy Music,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bill Wells,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fela Kuti,
Brand Nubian,
The Flesh Eaters,
Average White Band,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Smiths,
Japan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alice Coltrane,
Maurizio,
Accadde A,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Anakelly,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soft Cell,
Faust,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Index,
The Doors,
Susan Cadogan,
Alphaville,
Reuben Wilson,
Boredoms,
New Order,
Hasil Adkins,
Suburban Knight,
Wasted Youth,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sound,
Bauhaus,
The Electric Prunes,
Easy Going,
Intrusion,
8 Eyed Spy,
Peter & Gordon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Morten Harket,
Dawn Penn,
Dave Gahan,
48th St. Collective,
Graham Central Station,
The Fortunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Amon Düül II,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.