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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Last Poets to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Nils Olav,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ken Boothe,
Inner City,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Coltrane,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Raincoats,
Scion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rites of Spring,
PIL,
Amazonics,
Bob Dylan,
Dark Day,
The Standells,
The Durutti Column,
The Modern Lovers,
Aaron Thompson,
Maleditus Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
The Evens,
Derrick May,
Gregory Isaacs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Procol Harum,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Star Department,
Joensuu 1685,
Faraquet,
Cameo,
Barrington Levy,
June Days,
Robert Görl,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Skatalites,
Infiniti,
Groovy Waters,
The Last Poets,
The Trojans,
Parry Music,
Jesper Dahlback,
The United States of America,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Green,
F. McDonald,
Cheater Slicks,
Intrusion,
Essential Logic,
Hasil Adkins,
Lou Christie,
Roger Hodgson,
Mad Mike,
Schoolly D,
Masters at Work,
June of 44,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Angry Samoans,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.