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 Costa Rica and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
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 Donald Fagen 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 rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skriet,
Royal Trux,
Yusef Lateef,
ABC,
The Star Department,
Robert Hood,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fugs,
David Axelrod,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Remains,
Eric Dolphy,
F. McDonald,
Crash Course in Science,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wings,
Oneida,
The Beau Brummels,
Junior Murvin,
Panda Bear,
Lindisfarne,
Erasure,
Chris Corsano,
Wasted Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Second Layer,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eve St. Jones,
Arcadia,
Maurizio,
Underground Resistance,
The Skatalites,
The Five Americans,
Mark Hollis,
Silicon Teens,
The Saints,
This Heat,
Khruangbin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Saccharine Trust,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Radio Birdman,
Average White Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
Mandrill,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tommy Roe,
Skarface,
Moss Icon,
Chrome,
Janne Schatter,
Q and Not U,
Wolf Eyes,
Fad Gadget,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.