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 India and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 Barbara Tucker to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Hot Snakes,
Subhumans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rakim,
Skaos,
The Skatalites,
Nas,
Terry Callier,
Lou Christie,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Carl Craig,
Barbara Tucker,
The Grass Roots,
The Real Kids,
The Alarm Clocks,
Banda Bassotti,
Motorama,
Pet Shop Boys,
Swell Maps,
Scratch Acid,
Marc Almond,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Babytalk,
Reuben Wilson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Susan Cadogan,
Reagan Youth,
The Music Machine,
Bill Wells,
Cybotron,
Yellowson,
Smog,
Johnny Clarke,
Roger Hodgson,
Television Personalities,
The Moleskins,
Warsaw,
MC5,
Todd Terry,
Skarface,
Quando Quango,
UT,
Gang Green,
Can,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suburban Knight,
Chrome,
Grauzone,
World's Most,
Suicide,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tom Boy,
Jerry's Kids,
Laurel Aitken,
The Black Dice,
CMW,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.