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 Kiribati and from Columbus.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Gories to the jazz 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru 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 rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Junior Murvin,
Von Mondo,
Boz Scaggs,
John Coltrane,
Circle Jerks,
Inner City,
Supertramp,
Davy DMX,
Blancmange,
Lungfish,
The Walker Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yazoo,
Lyres,
Maurizio,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Velvet Underground,
Pussy Galore,
These Immortal Souls,
The Toasters,
Thompson Twins,
Flipper,
John Cale,
the Bar-Kays,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mojo Men,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fuzztones,
The Zeros,
Ludus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Skarface,
Nico,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Prince Buster,
Adolescents,
KRS-One,
cv313,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
Panda Bear,
The Cosmic Jokers,
B.T. Express,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crooked Eye,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slits,
Gang Starr,
Jeru the Damaja,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crime,
Kerri Chandler,
Soul II Soul,
Average White Band,
D'Angelo,
Mantronix,
Little Man,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.