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 Guyana and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Arab on Radar to the grime 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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fela Kuti,
Pole,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hoover,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lalann,
The Saints,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gories,
Mission of Burma,
Quantec,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radiohead,
Q and Not U,
Roger Hodgson,
FM Einheit,
The Beau Brummels,
Lyres,
Monolake,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kas Product,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Minutemen,
Quadrant,
Scan 7,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marshall Jefferson,
Shuggie Otis,
The Modern Lovers,
Youth Brigade,
Stockholm Monsters,
The American Breed,
Yaz,
The Knickerbockers,
T. Rex,
Michelle Simonal,
Althea and Donna,
the Association,
Monks,
The Gun Club,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aloha Tigers,
Sister Nancy,
The New Christs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Hill,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ludus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Normal,
World's Most,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sarah Menescal,
New York Dolls,
UT,
Skaos,
Negative Approach,
DJ Sneak,
Stereo Dub,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.