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 Ireland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Aswad to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Gichy Dan,
Connie Case,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soul II Soul,
Agent Orange,
Lindisfarne,
Fatback Band,
Magazine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yazoo,
The Motions,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ken Boothe,
Porter Ricks,
Marc Almond,
Kerri Chandler,
Faraquet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Offenders,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-101,
Gong,
Jeff Mills,
The Fugs,
Malaria!,
The Gladiators,
Electric Light Orchestra,
MDC,
The Move,
Wally Richardson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
This Heat,
Mr. Review,
Patti Smith,
Johnny Clarke,
The Grass Roots,
Crash Course in Science,
Jerry's Kids,
The Litter,
Amon Düül II,
Gabor Szabo,
John Holt,
Moebius,
Saccharine Trust,
Arab on Radar,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jacques Brel,
FM Einheit,
The Monochrome Set,
Wasted Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.