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 Syria and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Jacques Brel to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Accadde A,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Connie Case,
Absolute Body Control,
Hoover,
Delta 5,
Dead Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
Andrew Hill,
Tomorrow,
Derrick May,
Oblivians,
Letta Mbulu,
Model 500,
The Mojo Men,
Section 25,
Arab on Radar,
The Evens,
Electric Light Orchestra,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Wake,
K-Klass,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lalann,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Severed Heads,
Buzzcocks,
Rod Modell,
Erasure,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Birthday Party,
Eve St. Jones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Alice Coltrane,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gap Band,
The Red Krayola,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yazoo,
Boredoms,
Byron Stingily,
Toni Rubio,
Agent Orange,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alphaville,
Pole,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rosa Yemen,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott Heron,
Trumans Water,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
Steve Hackett,
Animal Collective,
The Martian,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Flag,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.