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 Marshall Islands and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Eric Copeland to the disco 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Yazoo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Last Poets,
The Move,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Cale,
In Retrospect,
Young Marble Giants,
The Remains,
Pole,
Underground Resistance,
The Five Americans,
Severed Heads,
Skaos,
Procol Harum,
B.T. Express,
the Normal,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang of Four,
Aloha Tigers,
Country Teasers,
Lyres,
Au Pairs,
Grey Daturas,
Surgeon,
L. Decosne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Chrome,
Brick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soft Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Loose Ends,
The Fuzztones,
The Trojans,
Tres Demented,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gun Club,
the Association,
Tim Buckley,
Nick Fraelich,
John Foxx,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Pretty Things,
Pussy Galore,
Delta 5,
Lower 48,
Royal Trux,
Sister Nancy,
Soft Cell,
The Slackers,
Todd Terry,
Deakin,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.