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 Croatia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Iggy Pop to the grunge 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Visage,
Avey Tare,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fuzztones,
Television Personalities,
Q and Not U,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Tubeway Army,
The Moleskins,
Tim Buckley,
Lalann,
Malaria!,
Echospace,
Lower 48,
Crooked Eye,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gories,
Max Romeo,
The Gladiators,
Interpol,
Connie Case,
Swell Maps,
The Smiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Basic Channel,
Toni Rubio,
The Dirtbombs,
LL Cool J,
Jeff Mills,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Technova,
Cheater Slicks,
The Count Five,
Peter and Kerry,
Unwound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marine Girls,
Lyres,
The Stooges,
Donald Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Victims,
Todd Terry,
Heaven 17,
Jacob Miller,
Jacques Brel,
Sun City Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
MDC,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Doors,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Aaron Thompson,
The Tremeloes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.