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 Spain and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lucky Dragons to the crunk 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aloha Tigers,
Agent Orange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skriet,
Barrington Levy,
Yusef Lateef,
Flash Fearless,
Bang On A Can,
The Black Dice,
Stiv Bators,
Ronnie Foster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Radiohead,
Groovy Waters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Vladislav Delay,
Patti Smith,
Main Source,
Donald Byrd,
Aural Exciters,
Chris Corsano,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang Starr,
R.M.O.,
The Pretty Things,
The Velvet Underground,
Neil Young,
Slick Rick,
The Leaves,
Robert Görl,
Crooked Eye,
Roxy Music,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Newcleus,
Guru Guru,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Sheep,
Ultra Naté,
Reuben Wilson,
KRS-One,
Monolake,
Adolescents,
Lyres,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Happenings,
B.T. Express,
Sight & Sound,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jacob Miller,
U.S. Maple,
The Mojo Men,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Amon Düül II,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Can,
Porter Ricks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Khruangbin,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Womack,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.