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 Seychelles and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Matthew Halsall to the grunge 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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
EPMD,
Ronan,
Cameo,
Simply Red,
The Raincoats,
a-ha,
Basic Channel,
Lalann,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Germs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Colin Newman,
Radio Birdman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Judy Mowatt,
cv313,
Dead Boys,
Make Up,
David Bowie,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Modern Lovers,
Tommy Roe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cal Tjader,
X-101,
A Certain Ratio,
Dark Day,
Todd Rundgren,
Aloha Tigers,
Chris Corsano,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Remains,
Flash Fearless,
The Fortunes,
Terry Callier,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cowsills,
Max Romeo,
Angry Samoans,
The Dirtbombs,
Aswad,
The Real Kids,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Flag,
OOIOO,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lucky Dragons,
Clear Light,
The Trojans,
Joensuu 1685,
Malaria!,
Junior Murvin,
Stereo Dub,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Axelrod,
Leonard Cohen,
Cymande,
Franke,
Ponytail,
Sonic Youth,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.