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 Argentina and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Donald Byrd to the punk 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tears for Fears,
Suicide,
Pole,
Excepter,
Crime,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ornette Coleman,
Dead Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Dark Day,
Pere Ubu,
Second Layer,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cybotron,
Gang of Four,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pet Shop Boys,
Index,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Theoretical Girls,
The American Breed,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cameo,
Bobby Womack,
Loose Ends,
Mantronix,
Metal Thangz,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Circle Jerks,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mojo Men,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Cale,
Main Source,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Invisible,
The J.B.'s,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ken Boothe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The United States of America,
Country Teasers,
Siglo XX,
The Fortunes,
Wire,
Black Bananas,
Josef K,
Depeche Mode,
Robert Wyatt,
Matthew Halsall,
Don Cherry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Audionom,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.