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 Kazakhstan and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sarah Menescal to the grime 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Neu!,
Subhumans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ponytail,
The Birthday Party,
Black Sheep,
Qualms,
Sun Ra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Banda Bassotti,
Mandrill,
T. Rex,
The American Breed,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Bar-Kays,
The Black Dice,
Absolute Body Control,
Hashim,
Sexual Harrassment,
In Retrospect,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Reuben Wilson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Derrick May,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Schoolly D,
The Evens,
Soul II Soul,
Prince Buster,
the Germs,
Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Au Pairs,
Iggy Pop,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cybotron,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Grass Roots,
Girls At Our Best!,
Skriet,
Vladislav Delay,
Al Stewart,
OOIOO,
New York Dolls,
Aaron Thompson,
Anakelly,
Chris & Cosey,
The Names,
Dead Boys,
Godley & Creme,
Scratch Acid,
Kool Moe Dee,
ABBA,
The Red Krayola,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gun Club,
Scott Walker,
Roxy Music,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.