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 Panama and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Albert Ayler 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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Gregory Isaacs,
Magazine,
Soft Cell,
Spandau Ballet,
Lower 48,
Spoonie Gee,
The Residents,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlback,
One Last Wish,
The Red Krayola,
The Last Poets,
Technova,
Unwound,
Jerry's Kids,
Roxette,
Bootsy Collins,
Boredoms,
Arab on Radar,
New Age Steppers,
Skaos,
Skarface,
Lightning Bolt,
Moss Icon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Neil Young,
Franke,
Marvin Gaye,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roxy Music,
Ice-T,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Essential Logic,
X-101,
Scion,
Cameo,
John Lydon,
Cecil Taylor,
La Düsseldorf,
Magma,
Das Ding,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Reuben Wilson,
The Vogues,
Shoche,
Gil Scott Heron,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.