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 South Sudan and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eden Ahbez to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Albert Ayler,
Pantytec,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Stooges,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
kango's stein massive,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Skriet,
Mr. Review,
The Searchers,
The Star Department,
Deepchord,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kerri Chandler,
Barclay James Harvest,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Minutemen,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
Livin' Joy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Maurizio,
Bobby Sherman,
New York Dolls,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
Flash Fearless,
Kevin Saunderson,
Circle Jerks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faust,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sugar Minott,
Fat Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ken Boothe,
Los Fastidios,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantaleimon,
Scan 7,
Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Prince Buster,
Roy Ayers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kurtis Blow,
Anthony Braxton,
Can,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.