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 Houston.
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 Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rekid to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Spoonie Gee,
The Toasters,
Ossler,
Jandek,
Mark Hollis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Subhumans,
The Slits,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fall,
Minnie Riperton,
The Misunderstood,
Joensuu 1685,
Scott Walker,
Symarip,
Rekid,
Kerri Chandler,
X-101,
La Düsseldorf,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Bananas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Excepter,
Procol Harum,
Frankie Knuckles,
Arthur Verocai,
Unrelated Segments,
The Slackers,
Joe Smooth,
Qualms,
Soul II Soul,
James White and The Blacks,
The Monks,
Cheater Slicks,
Reuben Wilson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Flesh Eaters,
Isaac Hayes,
The Red Krayola,
Maurizio,
The Five Americans,
Slave,
the Swans,
Malaria!,
Fear,
Sound Behaviour,
New Order,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
Bauhaus,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Happenings,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stetsasonic,
The Zeros,
Lalann,
Ten City,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.