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 Saudi Arabia and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 The Dead C to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Johnny Clarke,
Stiv Bators,
B.T. Express,
Brick,
Groovy Waters,
The Velvet Underground,
Saccharine Trust,
The Dirtbombs,
Althea and Donna,
Mo-Dettes,
Ronan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Sherman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DJ Style,
Jimmy McGriff,
F. McDonald,
Monolake,
Pagans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Absolute Body Control,
Howard Jones,
Black Moon,
John Lydon,
Rites of Spring,
The New Christs,
Tears for Fears,
The Doors,
Dave Gahan,
Black Sheep,
Jeff Lynne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pierre Henry,
Rapeman,
Spandau Ballet,
La Düsseldorf,
Brand Nubian,
Joyce Sims,
Joe Smooth,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Adolescents,
Easy Going,
Whodini,
The Tremeloes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alton Ellis,
The Divine Comedy,
Pulsallama,
Scion,
Maleditus Sound,
The Standells,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crime,
Sparks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yusef Lateef,
Desert Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Soft Cell,
The Fugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Neon Judgement,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.