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 Malaysia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rap 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Motorama,
The Human League,
Wally Richardson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
New York Dolls,
Boz Scaggs,
Max Romeo,
Sonic Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Order,
Second Layer,
Bobby Byrd,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
the Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ohio Players,
Rufus Thomas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
This Heat,
Skaos,
Scion,
The Index,
Erasure,
Silicon Teens,
The Electric Prunes,
the Association,
Al Stewart,
Curtis Mayfield,
AZ,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Albert Ayler,
Janne Schatter,
Fatback Band,
Sam Rivers,
Deadbeat,
The Fall,
L. Decosne,
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
Derrick May,
Bobby Womack,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Offenders,
Suburban Knight,
U.S. Maple,
Mission of Burma,
Thee Headcoats,
Lalann,
Cecil Taylor,
Lucky Dragons,
Rod Modell,
E-Dancer,
The Cowsills,
Sällskapet,
Bluetip,
DJ Style,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.