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 Costa Rica and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minnie Riperton to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed,
John Foxx,
T.S.O.L.,
Aural Exciters,
Derrick May,
Rotary Connection,
The Modern Lovers,
Scientists,
Mr. Review,
Delta 5,
Barry Ungar,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Neon Judgement,
Barbara Tucker,
Y Pants,
Jeff Mills,
Alton Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
Groovy Waters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sex Pistols,
PIL,
Black Bananas,
the Human League,
John Holt,
Soft Machine,
Faraquet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mission of Burma,
Slave,
Lalann,
Wasted Youth,
Agitation Free,
Franke,
Idris Muhammad,
the Association,
Roger Hodgson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Make Up,
Dark Day,
Con Funk Shun,
Byron Stingily,
Laurel Aitken,
Harmonia,
Reuben Wilson,
Wolf Eyes,
Lightning Bolt,
Cameo,
Angry Samoans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magma,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dead Boys,
The Mojo Men,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul II Soul,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.