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 Vietnam and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tears for Fears to the electroclash 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
the Swans,
Alice Coltrane,
Cecil Taylor,
UT,
The Trojans,
Soul II Soul,
The Dirtbombs,
Oneida,
The Associates,
Soft Cell,
Accadde A,
The Velvet Underground,
10cc,
The Last Poets,
Guru Guru,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Sherman,
X-102,
Marshall Jefferson,
Audionom,
Hoover,
Icehouse,
The Fugs,
Thompson Twins,
Bill Wells,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxy Music,
Gang of Four,
Nirvana,
The Move,
Minnie Riperton,
Clear Light,
Nick Fraelich,
Ultra Naté,
the Bar-Kays,
Pussy Galore,
the Normal,
Boredoms,
Silicon Teens,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blossom Toes,
The Smoke,
Mr. Review,
Alison Limerick,
Kerri Chandler,
The Busters,
Bootsy Collins,
Panda Bear,
Smog,
Suicide,
The Stooges,
Lalann,
Carl Craig,
Gerry Rafferty,
DNA,
Y Pants,
Black Moon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rekid,
X-101,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.