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 Brunei and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ 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 Q and Not U to the techno 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Jesper Dahlback,
Camberwell Now,
Alison Limerick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cure,
Arcadia,
Glenn Branca,
Suicide,
Brand Nubian,
Visage,
The Young Rascals,
48th St. Collective,
Cybotron,
Loose Ends,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gichy Dan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Moebius,
KRS-One,
Excepter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bob Dylan,
Pulsallama,
Simply Red,
The Count Five,
Pussy Galore,
Nas,
Lakeside,
Joe Smooth,
Chris & Cosey,
Interpol,
Hashim,
Livin' Joy,
Faust,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Main Source,
Lebanon Hanover,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Y Pants,
Soft Cell,
Dave Gahan,
Jacques Brel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lyres,
The Zeros,
Zapp,
Adolescents,
The Busters,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Knickerbockers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swans,
LL Cool J,
The Skatalites,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alice Coltrane,
Derrick Morgan,
Cymande,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.