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 the UAE and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 The Fugs to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Wally Richardson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Maurizio,
Mark Hollis,
John Cale,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Schoolly D,
The Motions,
Crooked Eye,
The Angels of Light,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sound Behaviour,
Motorama,
Newcleus,
Lyres,
Reagan Youth,
Tres Demented,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
The Buckinghams,
The Gun Club,
Lee Hazlewood,
Chrome,
The Modern Lovers,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Sheep,
Sister Nancy,
Joe Smooth,
Man Parrish,
the Human League,
Circle Jerks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Flag,
Con Funk Shun,
Oneida,
Jacques Brel,
Bad Manners,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Martian,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cameo,
Infiniti,
The Selecter,
the Sonics,
Swans,
Mars,
X-Ray Spex,
ABC,
Howard Jones,
Fugazi,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.