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 Mauritania and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gang Gang Dance to the crunk 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
the Bar-Kays,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lindisfarne,
Monolake,
Black Flag,
Icehouse,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Magazine,
Franke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crime,
Ohio Players,
Bluetip,
Skriet,
a-ha,
The Mojo Men,
Ultra Naté,
Buzzcocks,
The Litter,
Con Funk Shun,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skaos,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Trojans,
Black Pus,
Deakin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Masters at Work,
The Young Rascals,
Public Enemy,
Fela Kuti,
Aaron Thompson,
Flipper,
The Evens,
Faraquet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nik Kershaw,
AZ,
The Red Krayola,
The Black Dice,
Anakelly,
Agitation Free,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eurythmics,
The Dirtbombs,
LL Cool J,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Human League,
Liliput,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cramps,
Ossler,
Yaz,
Jeru the Damaja,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
June of 44,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.