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 Turkey and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Fugs to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Amon Düül II,
Pylon,
Wings,
Eric Dolphy,
U.S. Maple,
Tres Demented,
Visage,
Blossom Toes,
L. Decosne,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
David Bowie,
Magma,
Echospace,
EPMD,
F. McDonald,
Kerri Chandler,
Sight & Sound,
LL Cool J,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cecil Taylor,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mr. Review,
Chrome,
Pagans,
Cameo,
Gang Starr,
Con Funk Shun,
Yusef Lateef,
D'Angelo,
Massinfluence,
Roy Ayers,
Masters at Work,
The Mummies,
Skriet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Anakelly,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Television,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minnie Riperton,
Procol Harum,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Gladiators,
The Fuzztones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Leaves,
Black Pus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Boredoms,
Ludus,
Arthur Verocai,
Malaria!,
Stetsasonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.