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 Ukraine and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Y Pants,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fortunes,
Deepchord,
The Cowsills,
Thompson Twins,
Echospace,
Janne Schatter,
E-Dancer,
Theoretical Girls,
Icehouse,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
MDC,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Audionom,
Cal Tjader,
Zapp,
Malaria!,
The Barracudas,
Intrusion,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Smiths,
The Velvet Underground,
Pierre Henry,
T. Rex,
The Cramps,
Underground Resistance,
the Sonics,
Thee Headcoats,
The Slackers,
Black Sheep,
World's Most,
Archie Shepp,
Boredoms,
Pantytec,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scan 7,
Iggy Pop,
Michelle Simonal,
The Motions,
Crash Course in Science,
The Zeros,
Animal Collective,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Stooges,
Lakeside,
H. Thieme,
Grauzone,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Monks,
Eurythmics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quadrant,
Arab on Radar,
Scott Walker,
Roxette,
a-ha,
Easy Going,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.