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 Zimbabwe and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the rap 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
FM Einheit,
The Busters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Circle Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Von Mondo,
Lyres,
Bob Dylan,
Liliput,
Brothers Johnson,
Subhumans,
The Sound,
The Gories,
Motorama,
Tubeway Army,
The Blackbyrds,
The Smiths,
H. Thieme,
Robert Hood,
World's Most,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
The Mummies,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tom Boy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marine Girls,
The Fortunes,
DNA,
Johnny Clarke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Little Man,
Terrestrial Tones,
Flash Fearless,
The Fuzztones,
Wolf Eyes,
Unrelated Segments,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
EPMD,
The United States of America,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Moleskins,
Electric Prunes,
T. Rex,
Lalann,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Outsiders,
Fad Gadget,
The Cramps,
Basic Channel,
Man Parrish,
Section 25,
Icehouse,
Q65,
Rapeman,
Scott Walker,
Moebius,
B.T. Express,
The Monochrome Set,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dennis Brown,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.