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 Rwanda and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Black Pus,
Pylon,
The Kinks,
Chris Corsano,
The Slackers,
Jawbox,
U.S. Maple,
Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Loose Ends,
Bobby Womack,
Section 25,
Kurtis Blow,
10cc,
China Crisis,
Gabor Szabo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bad Manners,
EPMD,
Sällskapet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispy Ambulance,
Circle Jerks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Toni Rubio,
Tears for Fears,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hasil Adkins,
Dawn Penn,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Smoke,
PIL,
Deepchord,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aswad,
Jacob Miller,
David Axelrod,
Minny Pops,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Goldenarms,
Radio Birdman,
John Coltrane,
Skaos,
Desert Stars,
MC5,
Fatback Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
X-102,
John Holt,
Theoretical Girls,
Monolake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
B.T. Express,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New Age Steppers,
Newcleus,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.