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 Maldives and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sparks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Junior Murvin,
Bush Tetras,
Bluetip,
Pantaleimon,
The Angels of Light,
Public Enemy,
R.M.O.,
The Moody Blues,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ituana,
Sun City Girls,
Eric Copeland,
The Birthday Party,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fatback Band,
The Human League,
the Human League,
Jeff Mills,
Magma,
The Black Dice,
The Doors,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Names,
Harmonia,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yazoo,
The Walker Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terrestrial Tones,
Connie Case,
Clear Light,
The Gories,
DNA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Offenders,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pylon,
Ponytail,
Don Cherry,
Rites of Spring,
Mary Jane Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
Crime,
10cc,
Jawbox,
Unwound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dead C,
Malaria!,
Average White Band,
World's Most,
Reagan Youth,
Fugazi,
D'Angelo,
Cymande,
Wolf Eyes,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.