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 Marshall Islands and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
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 Q and Not U to the funk 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
The Motions,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
R.M.O.,
Brand Nubian,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soul II Soul,
Mantronix,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang Starr,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scott Walker,
kango's stein massive,
Graham Central Station,
David McCallum,
Soulsonic Force,
Connie Case,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Heaven 17,
Eve St. Jones,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joey Negro,
The Busters,
Y Pants,
Crash Course in Science,
Sound Behaviour,
Warsaw,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Young Rascals,
Accadde A,
The Electric Prunes,
Junior Murvin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Flipper,
The Gun Club,
Magma,
Minutemen,
Darondo,
Maleditus Sound,
Malaria!,
Ultravox,
Peter & Gordon,
Marine Girls,
The Kinks,
Peter and Kerry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Can,
Sex Pistols,
China Crisis,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.