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 South Sudan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ralphi Rosario to the rap 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Robert Hood,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tubeway Army,
Jawbox,
The Wake,
Pussy Galore,
Clear Light,
Sarah Menescal,
The Happenings,
Gang Green,
John Lydon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Agent Orange,
Sun Ra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Angry Samoans,
Roxette,
Public Enemy,
The Victims,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
Radio Birdman,
Suicide,
The Cramps,
Ohio Players,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Janne Schatter,
Bad Manners,
Lalann,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Brick,
the Sonics,
Brass Construction,
Ice-T,
Swell Maps,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kenny Larkin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Trojans,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
Andrew Hill,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gories,
Don Cherry,
The Moody Blues,
Anthony Braxton,
Rekid,
Tres Demented,
The Fugs,
Rotary Connection,
Surgeon,
PIL,
Soft Cell,
Von Mondo,
Maurizio,
Nick Fraelich,
Bush Tetras,
Dark Day,
Country Teasers,
Mission of Burma,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.