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 Turkey and from Delhi.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Urselle to the electroclash 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Harmonia,
Tubeway Army,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deadbeat,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gap Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minor Threat,
The Mummies,
The Monks,
Wire,
Schoolly D,
Hasil Adkins,
Colin Newman,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kayak,
B.T. Express,
The Martian,
Excepter,
Goldenarms,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Holt,
The Music Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Little Man,
Porter Ricks,
The Neon Judgement,
Duran Duran,
Crooked Eye,
Scott Walker,
Arcadia,
The Leaves,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Almond,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
Ornette Coleman,
Minutemen,
Fugazi,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Donald Byrd,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Junior Murvin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cluster,
Popol Vuh,
Frankie Knuckles,
Max Romeo,
Crime,
Don Cherry,
Deepchord,
Lalann,
Zapp,
Archie Shepp,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.