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 Korea North and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Bad Manners to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scratch Acid,
Tommy Roe,
The Neon Judgement,
Slave,
The Black Dice,
Fad Gadget,
Urselle,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Delta 5,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Magazine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
AZ,
The Barracudas,
Gang Starr,
The Beau Brummels,
Eurythmics,
Babytalk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
Robert Hood,
Alice Coltrane,
Fugazi,
The Misunderstood,
Tres Demented,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aswad,
Fat Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
Erasure,
Echospace,
Oblivians,
Newcleus,
Joy Division,
Sarah Menescal,
10cc,
Barry Ungar,
E-Dancer,
The Fuzztones,
Lindisfarne,
Crime,
Eddi Front,
Bang On A Can,
Tim Buckley,
The Divine Comedy,
Motorama,
Aloha Tigers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wolf Eyes,
Von Mondo,
Matthew Bourne,
DNA,
Colin Newman,
Dead Boys,
Kas Product,
Brand Nubian,
The Cure,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.