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 Italy and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New York Dolls to the punk 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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Darondo,
Brand Nubian,
Animal Collective,
Mark Hollis,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Byrd,
The Doors,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Halsall,
Joy Division,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mandrill,
The Kinks,
Pole,
The Cowsills,
Faust,
Dave Gahan,
Heaven 17,
Parry Music,
Sunsets and Hearts,
David McCallum,
the Human League,
Suburban Knight,
Minnie Riperton,
The Birthday Party,
X-101,
Schoolly D,
Section 25,
Sonic Youth,
Max Romeo,
Rapeman,
Vladislav Delay,
The Barracudas,
Eve St. Jones,
Yazoo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Womack,
Connie Case,
Scrapy,
X-Ray Spex,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sugar Minott,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
Echospace,
The New Christs,
Jacques Brel,
Siglo XX,
Michelle Simonal,
Technova,
The Gladiators,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Germs,
OOIOO,
Reuben Wilson,
Erasure,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.