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 Monaco and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the crunk 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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Dawn Penn,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Symarip,
Tres Demented,
Lungfish,
Grauzone,
Boz Scaggs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Siglo XX,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Seeds,
The Vogues,
Vainqueur,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Agitation Free,
Hot Snakes,
Max Romeo,
Rites of Spring,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funkadelic,
Matthew Bourne,
Junior Murvin,
Essential Logic,
Howard Jones,
Hardrive,
Gabor Szabo,
The Toasters,
Don Cherry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eddi Front,
Toni Rubio,
Isaac Hayes,
The Count Five,
ABBA,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wings,
Anthony Braxton,
Ten City,
Godley & Creme,
Royal Trux,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fuzztones,
Interpol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Litter,
New Age Steppers,
The Sound,
Neil Young,
Terry Callier,
Tears for Fears,
Magazine,
Inner City,
Spoonie Gee,
Khruangbin,
Kayak,
Funky Four + One,
Patti Smith,
Cluster,
Lakeside,
The Victims,
MC5,
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.