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 Portland.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Stooges to the jazz 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Bluetip,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radio Birdman,
Masters at Work,
Mission of Burma,
June of 44,
Ohio Players,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gun Club,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yaz,
Amazonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ronan,
David McCallum,
Godley & Creme,
Lalann,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Metal Thangz,
Jandek,
Goldenarms,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Green,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aural Exciters,
The Leaves,
Brothers Johnson,
Schoolly D,
Cal Tjader,
Aswad,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marmalade,
T.S.O.L.,
Quando Quango,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Leonard Cohen,
The Fall,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Warren Ellis,
Popol Vuh,
The Divine Comedy,
The Names,
Derrick Morgan,
Lower 48,
Underground Resistance,
The Barracudas,
the Fania All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
The Offenders,
World's Most,
Supertramp,
The Birthday Party,
The Seeds,
The Electric Prunes,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.