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 Turkmenistan and from Spokane.
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 Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Television to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
The Kinks,
Pantaleimon,
The Tremeloes,
Godley & Creme,
Liliput,
Sister Nancy,
Talk Talk,
The Black Dice,
John Cale,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minor Threat,
Tropical Tobacco,
Isaac Hayes,
The Blues Magoos,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Arab on Radar,
Lindisfarne,
The Monks,
Aloha Tigers,
These Immortal Souls,
D'Angelo,
Pere Ubu,
Delta 5,
Ossler,
Sparks,
Franke,
Roy Ayers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Guru Guru,
Josef K,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barrington Levy,
Junior Murvin,
Aural Exciters,
Curtis Mayfield,
JFA,
Buzzcocks,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wolf Eyes,
Malaria!,
The Offenders,
This Heat,
Hardrive,
Cluster,
Rufus Thomas,
Bill Wells,
Section 25,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Terry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Average White Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
10cc,
Masters at Work,
Niagra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.