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 Namibia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pulsallama to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
Gang of Four,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
LL Cool J,
Roxy Music,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Last Poets,
B.T. Express,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nas,
Barry Ungar,
Unwound,
kango's stein massive,
Radio Birdman,
Smog,
MDC,
The Evens,
Tears for Fears,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
June of 44,
Clear Light,
Siglo XX,
Make Up,
Saccharine Trust,
Bush Tetras,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Hot Snakes,
Y Pants,
Kerri Chandler,
Banda Bassotti,
Aswad,
Joyce Sims,
Inner City,
Lightning Bolt,
MC5,
The Fuzztones,
Cheater Slicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Al Stewart,
Neu!,
Bluetip,
Scott Walker,
Moebius,
The Golliwogs,
Donald Byrd,
Kayak,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Von Mondo,
Organ,
UT,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.