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 Germany 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Charles Mingus to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fad Gadget,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Roy Ayers,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun City Girls,
Marc Almond,
The Young Rascals,
F. McDonald,
The Names,
La Düsseldorf,
Davy DMX,
Joe Finger,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arthur Verocai,
Spoonie Gee,
Man Eating Sloth,
Main Source,
D'Angelo,
Hardrive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pulsallama,
Swans,
Warren Ellis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Sonics,
Bang On A Can,
Maurizio,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cure,
Interpol,
UT,
Faraquet,
Ten City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Happenings,
Pylon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Index,
Camberwell Now,
The Sound,
kango's stein massive,
ABC,
E-Dancer,
Yellowson,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Knickerbockers,
The Standells,
John Lydon,
Stiv Bators,
Eric Copeland,
Fugazi,
Prince Buster,
Massinfluence,
The Flesh Eaters,
Frankie Knuckles,
a-ha,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.