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 Zimbabwe and from Madrid.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Kango’s Stein Massive 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Urselle,
Alison Limerick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Happenings,
Danielle Patucci,
Harmonia,
Donny Hathaway,
Dennis Brown,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
10cc,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Foxx,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Sherman,
The Golliwogs,
Kaleidoscope,
Hot Snakes,
OOIOO,
Brothers Johnson,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Remains,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry's Kids,
Saccharine Trust,
Stockholm Monsters,
Easy Going,
Man Parrish,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lungfish,
Silicon Teens,
The Fugs,
John Holt,
These Immortal Souls,
Khruangbin,
The Smiths,
The Selecter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Spoonie Gee,
Radio Birdman,
Inner City,
Shoche,
Cybotron,
The Fuzztones,
The Count Five,
Masters at Work,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Pretty Things,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fugazi,
The Grass Roots,
DNA,
Trumans Water,
Alton Ellis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Toasters,
The Misunderstood,
Accadde A,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.