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 Australia and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pole to the techno 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Reed,
Freddie Wadling,
Minnie Riperton,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
ABBA,
Qualms,
48th St. Collective,
Blake Baxter,
The Smiths,
Wally Richardson,
Don Cherry,
Brick,
Tom Boy,
Saccharine Trust,
The Real Kids,
Moss Icon,
Lalann,
The Busters,
Organ,
Gang of Four,
Henry Cow,
Masters at Work,
Black Sheep,
Glenn Branca,
Deakin,
The American Breed,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Symarip,
DNA,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Selecter,
Marmalade,
B.T. Express,
Kerri Chandler,
Gabor Szabo,
AZ,
MDC,
Crooked Eye,
Rekid,
Alphaville,
Agitation Free,
New York Dolls,
The Walker Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Cowsills,
Agent Orange,
Idris Muhammad,
Index,
Das Ding,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
Nas,
Steve Hackett,
June of 44,
Monolake,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.