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 Georgia and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the grunge 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine 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 grime 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Boredoms,
Hardrive,
Crooked Eye,
Index,
Charles Mingus,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Camberwell Now,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Divine Comedy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Toni Rubio,
Warsaw,
Ice-T,
D'Angelo,
Bang On A Can,
Smog,
X-Ray Spex,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Last Poets,
Marine Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
L. Decosne,
Wings,
Funkadelic,
Eve St. Jones,
Bauhaus,
Magazine,
Fad Gadget,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tommy Roe,
The Pretty Things,
The Gladiators,
John Holt,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mojo Men,
Scientists,
Stetsasonic,
ABBA,
Ronan,
Black Pus,
Tears for Fears,
Fat Boys,
Ronnie Foster,
Faust,
Wally Richardson,
Idris Muhammad,
Albert Ayler,
Schoolly D,
The J.B.'s,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Franke,
Barry Ungar,
MDC,
T. Rex,
Fugazi,
UT,
Patti Smith,
CMW,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.