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 Djibouti and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba 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 Alarm Clocks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Thee Headcoats,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
L. Decosne,
Fat Boys,
X-101,
Tommy Roe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lyres,
Junior Murvin,
Morten Harket,
Boogie Down Productions,
Radiohead,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Almond,
Supertramp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Make Up,
X-Ray Spex,
Tom Boy,
Ralphi Rosario,
New Order,
Blossom Toes,
Fluxion,
Cybotron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Hood,
Alphaville,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fear,
Nirvana,
Ice-T,
Interpol,
Marvin Gaye,
Half Japanese,
Subhumans,
Camberwell Now,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Clarke,
Lightning Bolt,
The Doors,
Althea and Donna,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Selecter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Germs,
Anthony Braxton,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Lynne,
Newcleus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Saccharine Trust,
The Sound,
Bluetip,
Crooked Eye,
Marshall Jefferson,
Funkadelic,
Gichy Dan,
Todd Terry,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.