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 Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Blues Magoos to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Man Parrish,
Panda Bear,
Slick Rick,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jacques Brel,
Ornette Coleman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kerri Chandler,
Rosa Yemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cure,
Godley & Creme,
Barclay James Harvest,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Niagra,
Main Source,
Marc Almond,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Parry Music,
Moss Icon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Cale,
Shuggie Otis,
Loose Ends,
Graham Central Station,
the Germs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barry Ungar,
KRS-One,
The Buckinghams,
The Wake,
Mars,
The Mummies,
Jawbox,
Unrelated Segments,
Eric Dolphy,
Supertramp,
kango's stein massive,
Can,
Crash Course in Science,
Skarface,
Ronnie Foster,
Public Enemy,
Roxy Music,
MC5,
The Moody Blues,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gastr Del Sol,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Oblivians,
The Sound,
Nick Fraelich,
Surgeon,
Anakelly,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Glambeats Corp.,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.