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 San Marino and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dirtbombs to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Magma,
Andrew Hill,
L. Decosne,
Half Japanese,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Al Stewart,
Pole,
Buzzcocks,
Animal Collective,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Wells,
Radio Birdman,
Drexciya,
The Knickerbockers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stetsasonic,
X-Ray Spex,
Crooked Eye,
Robert Wyatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DJ Style,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ornette Coleman,
Bill Near,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
The Techniques,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Martian,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wasted Youth,
Rotary Connection,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sam Rivers,
Ronan,
Davy DMX,
X-102,
The Dead C,
Pylon,
Dark Day,
F. McDonald,
The Vogues,
Pharoah Sanders,
Accadde A,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Young Marble Giants,
Ponytail,
Ash Ra Tempel,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DNA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Masters at Work,
The Modern Lovers,
The Wake,
the Association,
Byron Stingily,
Wire,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.