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 Uzbekistan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Harry Pussy to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Ronan,
Severed Heads,
The Victims,
Vainqueur,
Pulsallama,
Malaria!,
Slave,
Roger Hodgson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fuzztones,
Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Black Pus,
The Electric Prunes,
David Bowie,
Quadrant,
Schoolly D,
Roy Ayers,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Slits,
The Gladiators,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Second Layer,
Wally Richardson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Peter & Gordon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Moby Grape,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Can,
Cecil Taylor,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Real Kids,
Boz Scaggs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Pretty Things,
Dual Sessions,
Eve St. Jones,
Das Ding,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fugs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Seeds,
Sister Nancy,
Josef K,
Los Fastidios,
Country Teasers,
The Blackbyrds,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Sherman,
Chrome,
Bobby Womack,
Marvin Gaye,
The Toasters,
the Germs,
Hashim,
Scientists,
Lungfish,
John Foxx,
MC5,
cv313,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.