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 El Salvador and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 June of 44 to the grunge 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
The Knickerbockers,
The J.B.'s,
The Misunderstood,
The Searchers,
Skriet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mad Mike,
Malaria!,
Kenny Larkin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nas,
Peter & Gordon,
Ice-T,
Mandrill,
Ten City,
Soul II Soul,
Charles Mingus,
Severed Heads,
Dead Boys,
DJ Style,
Neu!,
Negative Approach,
Accadde A,
Minor Threat,
The Names,
Minny Pops,
Soft Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Animal Collective,
The Fire Engines,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mummies,
Lungfish,
The Last Poets,
Oneida,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Quando Quango,
the Bar-Kays,
The Smoke,
Warsaw,
The Happenings,
The Golliwogs,
Silicon Teens,
Outsiders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Reed,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pierre Henry,
Crime,
Idris Muhammad,
The Neon Judgement,
Flamin' Groovies,
Funky Four + One,
Loose Ends,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Cell,
Lalann,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.