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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
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 Michael McDonald 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 Pulsallama to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Trumans Water,
Judy Mowatt,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Byrd,
Blancmange,
Brick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Piero Umiliani,
The Remains,
Harmonia,
Soft Cell,
John Foxx,
Royal Trux,
Hashim,
Sex Pistols,
The Names,
Scion,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Mojo Men,
Blossom Toes,
MC5,
Banda Bassotti,
Surgeon,
the Germs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Negative Approach,
Siglo XX,
Crime,
Q65,
Soft Machine,
Fugazi,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brass Construction,
Sun City Girls,
Bang On A Can,
Bad Manners,
Faust,
Marmalade,
This Heat,
Tommy Roe,
EPMD,
Severed Heads,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Darondo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Dirtbombs,
X-102,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sugar Minott,
Flash Fearless,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeff Lynne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Whodini,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cameo,
Index,
The Blues Magoos,
Desert Stars,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.