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 China and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terrestrial Tones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths 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 grunge 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Popol Vuh,
Tim Buckley,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joy Division,
Jandek,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harry Pussy,
Barrington Levy,
Johnny Clarke,
Duran Duran,
the Bar-Kays,
Anakelly,
Aural Exciters,
Adolescents,
Bob Dylan,
The Skatalites,
The Fortunes,
Slick Rick,
Youth Brigade,
The Evens,
Joe Smooth,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gong,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Lynne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
KRS-One,
The Kinks,
Robert Görl,
Soul II Soul,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Visage,
The Real Kids,
Kurtis Blow,
Todd Terry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arab on Radar,
Pantytec,
Crime,
Aaron Thompson,
Tomorrow,
The Standells,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Red Krayola,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Birthday Party,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kas Product,
Scientists,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jeff Mills,
Donny Hathaway,
Franke,
Ultravox,
Symarip,
Avey Tare,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.