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 Tajikistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pharoah Sanders to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
The Walker Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scratch Acid,
Blake Baxter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bang On A Can,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Das Ding,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bill Near,
Robert Hood,
Max Romeo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sarah Menescal,
Magazine,
Rotary Connection,
FM Einheit,
Jeff Lynne,
The Buckinghams,
Harry Pussy,
Heaven 17,
Little Man,
Buzzcocks,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
La Düsseldorf,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wire,
The Last Poets,
The Offenders,
The Slits,
The Zeros,
June of 44,
Shoche,
Cameo,
Roy Ayers,
F. McDonald,
Eurythmics,
Roxette,
Sixth Finger,
Subhumans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fugs,
The Slackers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Alphaville,
Boz Scaggs,
The Golliwogs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Main Source,
Banda Bassotti,
Fatback Band,
Soft Cell,
Con Funk Shun,
The Stooges,
Grandmaster Flash,
Don Cherry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.