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 Gambia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rap 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fugazi,
The Grass Roots,
Country Teasers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Buzzcocks,
The Martian,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Brothers Johnson,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
The Black Dice,
Zapp,
Q and Not U,
Brass Construction,
ABC,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gories,
Symarip,
Drexciya,
Crash Course in Science,
Amon Düül,
Terry Callier,
Swell Maps,
John Cale,
Wolf Eyes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blancmange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Accadde A,
Guru Guru,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang of Four,
New York Dolls,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
Deepchord,
PIL,
Susan Cadogan,
Rod Modell,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Standells,
Grauzone,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harry Pussy,
Faraquet,
Rotary Connection,
ABBA,
Los Fastidios,
Alton Ellis,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fall,
Gastr Del Sol,
Young Marble Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
Interpol,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.