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 Bahrain and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Graham Central Station to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Depeche Mode,
Cymande,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gories,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultravox,
the Normal,
Sun Ra,
Interpol,
MDC,
Marcia Griffiths,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rapeman,
X-101,
Amazonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Q and Not U,
The Smiths,
Max Romeo,
Oneida,
DNA,
Dual Sessions,
Colin Newman,
Porter Ricks,
Kurtis Blow,
Urselle,
UT,
Sonic Youth,
Pierre Henry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Hood,
Schoolly D,
The Invisible,
Vladislav Delay,
Donny Hathaway,
CMW,
Gang Green,
The Cramps,
The Dead C,
New York Dolls,
Pere Ubu,
The Techniques,
Ossler,
EPMD,
Buzzcocks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Arthur Verocai,
Pole,
The J.B.'s,
The Barracudas,
Maurizio,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Selecter,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Slackers,
Electric Prunes,
The Count Five,
Susan Cadogan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.