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 Turkey and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 The Searchers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Blake Baxter,
U.S. Maple,
Reagan Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
Soulsonic Force,
Albert Ayler,
The Neon Judgement,
Jawbox,
Unrelated Segments,
Brass Construction,
Mr. Review,
Bauhaus,
Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Procol Harum,
The Skatalites,
Drexciya,
Arthur Verocai,
Infiniti,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kenny Larkin,
Sixth Finger,
Peter & Gordon,
Davy DMX,
a-ha,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Invisible,
B.T. Express,
The Beau Brummels,
Thompson Twins,
Pantaleimon,
Tres Demented,
Scratch Acid,
Crash Course in Science,
Fear,
Boogie Down Productions,
Q and Not U,
Radio Birdman,
Hoover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jerry's Kids,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sam Rivers,
Cheater Slicks,
Arab on Radar,
The Golliwogs,
Wasted Youth,
Joyce Sims,
Malaria!,
One Last Wish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Icehouse,
Symarip,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Simply Red,
Kerri Chandler,
The Searchers,
Robert Wyatt,
Iggy Pop,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Magma,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.