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 Tajikistan and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 New York Dolls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mummies,
Pulsallama,
Altered Images,
Sandy B,
Fear,
Stetsasonic,
Bob Dylan,
The Residents,
Gang Starr,
L. Decosne,
Idris Muhammad,
Audionom,
Matthew Bourne,
Radio Birdman,
Reagan Youth,
Barrington Levy,
Man Parrish,
Porter Ricks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pere Ubu,
Harpers Bizarre,
Negative Approach,
the Normal,
Fat Boys,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Flash Fearless,
Barbara Tucker,
Terry Callier,
The Monks,
Bill Near,
Skarface,
The Durutti Column,
Shuggie Otis,
The Dirtbombs,
The Stooges,
Michelle Simonal,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Fraelich,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mojo Men,
Minny Pops,
Tomorrow,
Simply Red,
David McCallum,
the Swans,
Alice Coltrane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Grauzone,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Smooth,
Gang of Four,
Urselle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Whodini,
Flipper,
Roxy Music,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.