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 Iraq and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Germs to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Pus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Desert Stars,
Harry Pussy,
MC5,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Newcleus,
Simply Red,
Wire,
Sun Ra,
Parry Music,
Kaleidoscope,
Harmonia,
Supertramp,
Television,
Mad Mike,
Camberwell Now,
The Cure,
Scratch Acid,
Tim Buckley,
Glenn Branca,
Oneida,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Underground Resistance,
Charles Mingus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sällskapet,
Saccharine Trust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
Rites of Spring,
Dennis Brown,
The Leaves,
Erykah Badu,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ohio Players,
The Fugs,
Franke,
Cameo,
Mandrill,
Agitation Free,
Quantec,
Aaron Thompson,
Model 500,
Porter Ricks,
EPMD,
The Zeros,
Donald Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Pop Group,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fall,
Camouflage,
Roger Hodgson,
Dual Sessions,
Gang Starr,
Neil Young,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.