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 Somalia and from Milan.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sexual Harrassment to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
F. McDonald,
The Smiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Names,
Model 500,
The Star Department,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Residents,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott Heron,
These Immortal Souls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mantronix,
Quantec,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soft Cell,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fluxion,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Whodini,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Desert Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dave Gahan,
Infiniti,
The Cowsills,
D'Angelo,
Ossler,
Alphaville,
Bill Wells,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Monks,
Connie Case,
Marc Almond,
Wally Richardson,
Tears for Fears,
Heaven 17,
Patti Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
kango's stein massive,
June Days,
The Tremeloes,
Suicide,
Ultravox,
Bluetip,
Joey Negro,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Camberwell Now,
Half Japanese,
Urselle,
Au Pairs,
Duran Duran,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.