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 Estonia and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bill Wells to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Absolute Body Control,
Eli Mardock,
The Walker Brothers,
Royal Trux,
The J.B.'s,
Barry Ungar,
Organ,
Minor Threat,
Yaz,
Ornette Coleman,
Blake Baxter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oblivians,
The Detroit Cobras,
Maleditus Sound,
Isaac Hayes,
Nils Olav,
Soft Cell,
Interpol,
Malaria!,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Starr,
Simply Red,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Normal,
The Flesh Eaters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Spoonie Gee,
Whodini,
Terrestrial Tones,
Average White Band,
Gang Green,
Nirvana,
Josef K,
Kayak,
Ludus,
The Moleskins,
Spandau Ballet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Accadde A,
Peter and Kerry,
Kerri Chandler,
Livin' Joy,
Fatback Band,
Rakim,
Laurel Aitken,
The Wake,
The Invisible,
Can,
a-ha,
Supertramp,
Agent Orange,
Dennis Brown,
Siglo XX,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bootsy Collins,
Piero Umiliani,
Marmalade,
Bill Near,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.