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 Saudi Arabia and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Minutemen to the jazz 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ten City,
Bobby Sherman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter and Kerry,
Rites of Spring,
June of 44,
Idris Muhammad,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Harmonia,
Simply Red,
Nas,
James White and The Blacks,
Juan Atkins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soft Machine,
Trumans Water,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Pop Group,
Ronnie Foster,
Drexciya,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dave Gahan,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Move,
Joe Smooth,
The Monks,
The Star Department,
The Smiths,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lindisfarne,
Magma,
Freddie Wadling,
Zero Boys,
Deepchord,
Urselle,
Whodini,
DJ Style,
Max Romeo,
Alphaville,
Maleditus Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
10cc,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nico,
Byron Stingily,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Fuzztones,
Maurizio,
Lalann,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Last Poets,
Monolake,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.