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 Tunisia and from London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 The Human League to the disco 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Scientists,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül,
Rakim,
The Invisible,
Circle Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Pop Group,
China Crisis,
Pylon,
Slick Rick,
The Walker Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lucky Dragons,
Public Enemy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tropical Tobacco,
U.S. Maple,
Trumans Water,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Smoke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eddi Front,
Arcadia,
DNA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Techniques,
John Coltrane,
Matthew Bourne,
Nico,
the Human League,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Mojo Men,
The Cramps,
Anakelly,
Cybotron,
Anthony Braxton,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gabor Szabo,
D'Angelo,
Lalann,
DJ Style,
Ronan,
Rod Modell,
Lower 48,
Sight & Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mr. Review,
Siglo XX,
Frankie Knuckles,
Junior Murvin,
Joy Division,
Groovy Waters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ossler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.