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 Kazakhstan and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 The Cowsills to the punk 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Swell Maps,
Average White Band,
Popol Vuh,
Easy Going,
Joey Negro,
U.S. Maple,
Mantronix,
Black Pus,
Hasil Adkins,
Organ,
Massinfluence,
Crooked Eye,
Monolake,
Eric Copeland,
Second Layer,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Flag,
Yellowson,
The Gories,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fela Kuti,
The Dirtbombs,
Don Cherry,
Robert Wyatt,
Amon Düül II,
Todd Terry,
Graham Central Station,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Matthew Bourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Piero Umiliani,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
Stiv Bators,
FM Einheit,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Tommy Roe,
Flipper,
The Motions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
Grey Daturas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
New Age Steppers,
Danielle Patucci,
Sex Pistols,
K-Klass,
Skriet,
Jacob Miller,
The Smiths,
Technova,
The Remains,
Ice-T,
Model 500,
Suicide,
Scion,
Pantytec,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.