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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Tokyo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Fugazi to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Mad Mike,
Main Source,
Scion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Severed Heads,
Anthony Braxton,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers,
The Fugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
KRS-One,
The Durutti Column,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Modern Lovers,
Aloha Tigers,
Bootsy Collins,
Brass Construction,
The Raincoats,
Ten City,
The Gories,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Funkadelic,
Cameo,
DJ Style,
FM Einheit,
E-Dancer,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siglo XX,
Model 500,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fad Gadget,
Parry Music,
Roger Hodgson,
Reuben Wilson,
cv313,
Sandy B,
The Sisters of Mercy,
In Retrospect,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Zero Boys,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Morten Harket,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barrington Levy,
The Dead C,
Tim Buckley,
Los Fastidios,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Buckinghams,
Rod Modell,
Hashim,
the Soft Cell,
Donald Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Birthday Party,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.