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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Hong Kong.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Spoonie Gee to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Dead C,
The Invisible,
Todd Rundgren,
Alton Ellis,
The Electric Prunes,
DNA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skaos,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lower 48,
Depeche Mode,
Althea and Donna,
Sandy B,
Ituana,
David Bowie,
Heaven 17,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lalann,
Wally Richardson,
Bob Dylan,
The Gap Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Slits,
The Black Dice,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Moon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultra Naté,
Cybotron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roxette,
Davy DMX,
The Angels of Light,
The Blues Magoos,
Mars,
Ohio Players,
Henry Cow,
The Associates,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Christie,
The Real Kids,
Vladislav Delay,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Pus,
Alphaville,
Symarip,
Joy Division,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Funky Four + One,
Anthony Braxton,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Byron Stingily,
cv313,
Electric Prunes,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.