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 Africa and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Bobby Womack 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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
ABBA,
Barry Ungar,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crime,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Knickerbockers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Motions,
Reuben Wilson,
Whodini,
Roxy Music,
The Associates,
Eli Mardock,
Blake Baxter,
New York Dolls,
World's Most,
The Alarm Clocks,
Depeche Mode,
Lyres,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Womack,
Wasted Youth,
Infiniti,
Masters at Work,
AZ,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Techniques,
Nils Olav,
the Germs,
The Doors,
Rod Modell,
In Retrospect,
Babytalk,
The Busters,
Livin' Joy,
Blancmange,
The Cramps,
Scan 7,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Todd Terry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Angry Samoans,
Nas,
Eddi Front,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Christie,
Basic Channel,
Spoonie Gee,
Scion,
Junior Murvin,
Duran Duran,
Howard Jones,
Section 25,
Cymande,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Motorama,
Isaac Hayes,
Au Pairs,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.