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 Kuwait and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 Fatback Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Martian,
Fat Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
Letta Mbulu,
the Soft Cell,
CMW,
Echospace,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
John Lydon,
Eve St. Jones,
MC5,
Outsiders,
Fad Gadget,
Rapeman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lindisfarne,
Delta 5,
Depeche Mode,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Flash Fearless,
The Young Rascals,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Christie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Graham Central Station,
John Cale,
Darondo,
AZ,
Hardrive,
Wire,
Cecil Taylor,
Kenny Larkin,
Pulsallama,
Joe Finger,
Arcadia,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roxette,
Animal Collective,
Chris Corsano,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Görl,
World's Most,
Unrelated Segments,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Toasters,
Scratch Acid,
John Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kaleidoscope,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Goldenarms,
Talk Talk,
The Music Machine,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.