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 Estonia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Gang Green to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Das Ding,
Harry Pussy,
Funkadelic,
Clear Light,
Soul II Soul,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Hood,
Junior Murvin,
8 Eyed Spy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Don Cherry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barclay James Harvest,
Godley & Creme,
Scion,
Deakin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mummies,
Country Teasers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cymande,
Jeff Lynne,
The Grass Roots,
Stereo Dub,
The Cramps,
The Techniques,
Fatback Band,
John Cale,
The Standells,
Danielle Patucci,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Todd Rundgren,
China Crisis,
June of 44,
The Misunderstood,
UT,
Suicide,
Stetsasonic,
Tubeway Army,
La Düsseldorf,
Porter Ricks,
H. Thieme,
World's Most,
Roger Hodgson,
The Martian,
Dave Gahan,
Sun City Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Organ,
Amon Düül,
Banda Bassotti,
Mad Mike,
Zero Boys,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Litter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Television Personalities,
Rites of Spring,
Average White Band,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.