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 Sweden and from New York.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lungfish to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Accadde A,
The Evens,
Animal Collective,
The Skatalites,
This Heat,
The Monochrome Set,
Scrapy,
Little Man,
Toni Rubio,
Bootsy Collins,
Lucky Dragons,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Young Marble Giants,
Matthew Bourne,
Skriet,
The Dead C,
Roxy Music,
Man Parrish,
Carl Craig,
Siglo XX,
Todd Rundgren,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Slits,
Robert Wyatt,
James White and The Blacks,
Zapp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Livin' Joy,
Ten City,
The Modern Lovers,
Letta Mbulu,
The Techniques,
Newcleus,
Nick Fraelich,
T. Rex,
Jandek,
Grey Daturas,
Sonic Youth,
Mission of Burma,
Sparks,
Half Japanese,
Smog,
Boogie Down Productions,
Buzzcocks,
Swans,
Moby Grape,
Main Source,
Morten Harket,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sound,
The Slackers,
Kurtis Blow,
Hot Snakes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric Copeland,
Oblivians,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.