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 Bremen.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer 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 Walker Brothers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Idris Muhammad,
Wolf Eyes,
Alice Coltrane,
Crime,
Minny Pops,
Drexciya,
Delon & Dalcan,
Theoretical Girls,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Five Americans,
Ice-T,
Patti Smith,
UT,
Bill Wells,
Flash Fearless,
The Count Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
E-Dancer,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Electric Prunes,
F. McDonald,
Vainqueur,
Ken Boothe,
Moss Icon,
The Last Poets,
The Blackbyrds,
Underground Resistance,
Barry Ungar,
The Star Department,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Donald Byrd,
Banda Bassotti,
Talk Talk,
Ohio Players,
Graham Central Station,
Unrelated Segments,
Cal Tjader,
MC5,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Gap Band,
The Gladiators,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Freddie Wadling,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Connie Case,
Blossom Toes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zapp,
Pussy Galore,
The Gories,
Juan Atkins,
Man Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Christie,
The Move,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.