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 Laos and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Gang Gang Dance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Motions,
Pussy Galore,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Simply Red,
New Order,
Mars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minor Threat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radio Birdman,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Qualms,
the Swans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rekid,
June of 44,
Derrick Morgan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Glenn Branca,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Spoonie Gee,
The Litter,
Eric Copeland,
Motorama,
Laurel Aitken,
Godley & Creme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Faraquet,
Suicide,
Blossom Toes,
the Normal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
T.S.O.L.,
The Techniques,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pylon,
T. Rex,
The Index,
Essential Logic,
Todd Rundgren,
The Pretty Things,
Soul II Soul,
The Fuzztones,
Max Romeo,
Schoolly D,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echospace,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ralphi Rosario,
8 Eyed Spy,
Duran Duran,
ABBA,
Spandau Ballet,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.