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 Guinea and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 The Electric Prunes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Camberwell Now,
Steve Hackett,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tears for Fears,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cameo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
U.S. Maple,
The Evens,
The Cowsills,
Skarface,
Grey Daturas,
The Smiths,
Slave,
Gong,
Sonny Sharrock,
Clear Light,
Absolute Body Control,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Divine Comedy,
The Residents,
Sound Behaviour,
The Velvet Underground,
Can,
Fear,
Lakeside,
In Retrospect,
Skaos,
Cluster,
Intrusion,
UT,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
JFA,
Davy DMX,
Max Romeo,
Sällskapet,
Aural Exciters,
Minor Threat,
The United States of America,
Essential Logic,
Nick Fraelich,
Minutemen,
Ice-T,
Joe Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
FM Einheit,
The Beau Brummels,
Pulsallama,
Cal Tjader,
Animal Collective,
Roy Ayers,
Camouflage,
Crispian St. Peters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marmalade,
Jeff Mills,
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.