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 Venezuela and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scientists to the grime 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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?
The Litter,
Pussy Galore,
Hot Snakes,
Magazine,
Alphaville,
The Tremeloes,
Connie Case,
Anthony Braxton,
Slick Rick,
Rekid,
The Leaves,
Prince Buster,
New York Dolls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kenny Larkin,
The Young Rascals,
Sparks,
Von Mondo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kurtis Blow,
Essential Logic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
David Axelrod,
Alice Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
The Golliwogs,
Das Ding,
Davy DMX,
Marmalade,
Saccharine Trust,
The Birthday Party,
Eden Ahbez,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Residents,
The Moody Blues,
Nation of Ulysses,
Adolescents,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stereo Dub,
China Crisis,
The Cramps,
the Normal,
R.M.O.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Max Romeo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sight & Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
The Index,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Holt,
Sound Behaviour,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marvin Gaye,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.