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 Zimbabwe and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba 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 Bobby Sherman to the crunk 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The American Breed,
Barbara Tucker,
Sugar Minott,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soulsonic Force,
Niagra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Golliwogs,
Scrapy,
The Evens,
The Divine Comedy,
Rufus Thomas,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Theoretical Girls,
The Five Americans,
Ornette Coleman,
Visage,
Inner City,
Ten City,
The Moody Blues,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Derrick May,
The Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
Hoover,
Boredoms,
Amon Düül II,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rotary Connection,
Man Parrish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harry Pussy,
Urselle,
Fat Boys,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sight & Sound,
The Fire Engines,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cramps,
The Names,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Pop Group,
Deakin,
The New Christs,
Lou Reed,
Gong,
Davy DMX,
Reagan Youth,
X-101,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-Ray Spex,
Warren Ellis,
Spoonie Gee,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Camouflage,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.