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 Slovakia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
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 organ 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 Amon Düül to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jimmy McGriff,
E-Dancer,
Unwound,
The Neon Judgement,
Ultimate Spinach,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eve St. Jones,
Mandrill,
Marmalade,
Amon Düül,
Sun City Girls,
Parry Music,
The Divine Comedy,
Au Pairs,
The Gories,
Fluxion,
Drexciya,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Khruangbin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Youth Brigade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Intrusion,
The Skatalites,
Suicide,
Derrick May,
Carl Craig,
Cameo,
Gang Starr,
Jeff Mills,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultra Naté,
Funkadelic,
Ohio Players,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
X-Ray Spex,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
L. Decosne,
The Last Poets,
Pulsallama,
Soulsonic Force,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
Archie Shepp,
Camberwell Now,
Amon Düül II,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
Can,
Siglo XX,
The Fuzztones,
Susan Cadogan,
Rosa Yemen,
H. Thieme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barry Ungar,
OOIOO,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.