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 Liberia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fela Kuti to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Crispy Ambulance,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vladislav Delay,
The Offenders,
The Count Five,
Laurel Aitken,
Gastr Del Sol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Groovy Waters,
Marcia Griffiths,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Flag,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Divine Comedy,
David McCallum,
kango's stein massive,
The Names,
Donald Byrd,
Pierre Henry,
Yusef Lateef,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alice Coltrane,
Don Cherry,
Symarip,
Pole,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxette,
Iggy Pop,
Ponytail,
Arab on Radar,
Jimmy McGriff,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bootsy Collins,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Starr,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fire Engines,
the Fania All-Stars,
Visage,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wasted Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Lalo Schifrin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Terry,
Trumans Water,
Metal Thangz,
A Certain Ratio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Derrick Morgan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skarface,
Youth Brigade,
Blossom Toes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joe Smooth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.