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 Serbia and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Slave,
U.S. Maple,
Technova,
Rhythm & Sound,
Depeche Mode,
Alphaville,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Infiniti,
James White and The Blacks,
Bauhaus,
Bootsy Collins,
Guru Guru,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The United States of America,
Delon & Dalcan,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Searchers,
Popol Vuh,
Howard Jones,
The Cure,
The Saints,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minny Pops,
Deadbeat,
Isaac Hayes,
Idris Muhammad,
Kaleidoscope,
Delta 5,
Michelle Simonal,
Pantaleimon,
Neil Young,
Mr. Review,
The Walker Brothers,
The Motions,
Eric Dolphy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Womack,
John Lydon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Desert Stars,
Lalann,
The Fortunes,
The Slits,
The Invisible,
Crispy Ambulance,
Symarip,
Chrome,
Ponytail,
Quantec,
Duran Duran,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Wake,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Byrd,
Zero Boys,
Nas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.