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 United States and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the rap 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Simply Red,
Infiniti,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Womack,
The Detroit Cobras,
Symarip,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minny Pops,
Pagans,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
Masters at Work,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Trumans Water,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Enemy,
The New Christs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
F. McDonald,
Yaz,
Radio Birdman,
Wire,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Angels of Light,
David McCallum,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fuzztones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soul II Soul,
World's Most,
The Names,
DNA,
Popol Vuh,
Chris & Cosey,
Erykah Badu,
Aural Exciters,
Iggy Pop,
The Tremeloes,
Skaos,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lungfish,
X-101,
Lightning Bolt,
Los Fastidios,
Tommy Roe,
Sparks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Amon Düül,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
FM Einheit,
Monks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Doors,
Yellowson,
The Gun Club,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Country Teasers,
Black Moon,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.