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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angels of Light to the punk 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Pulsallama,
Brick,
Section 25,
Graham Central Station,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gun Club,
Fugazi,
Eve St. Jones,
The Selecter,
Scratch Acid,
Roger Hodgson,
Prince Buster,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Drexciya,
Smog,
Johnny Osbourne,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Massinfluence,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Smiths,
FM Einheit,
Sister Nancy,
Circle Jerks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Iggy Pop,
Kaleidoscope,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fire Engines,
Quantec,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Todd Terry,
Chrome,
Faraquet,
This Heat,
KRS-One,
Qualms,
New Age Steppers,
Nirvana,
Royal Trux,
Pierre Henry,
Inner City,
The Sound,
Wasted Youth,
The Red Krayola,
Panda Bear,
F. McDonald,
Marmalade,
Monolake,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Max Romeo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris Corsano,
Peter and Kerry,
The Blues Magoos,
Reuben Wilson,
the Association,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.