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 Niger and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blossom Toes to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Khruangbin,
Excepter,
Nik Kershaw,
Marine Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sister Nancy,
Ten City,
The Fall,
kango's stein massive,
Wire,
Accadde A,
X-Ray Spex,
Unrelated Segments,
X-102,
Darondo,
Joensuu 1685,
Fat Boys,
Soulsonic Force,
The Grass Roots,
Archie Shepp,
Roy Ayers,
Sugar Minott,
Simply Red,
The Neon Judgement,
Soul II Soul,
The Searchers,
Con Funk Shun,
Interpol,
Black Pus,
Moss Icon,
The Red Krayola,
Lucky Dragons,
Bush Tetras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Drexciya,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare,
Patti Smith,
The Durutti Column,
Tres Demented,
Oblivians,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Byrd,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slave,
The Five Americans,
The Sound,
Scion,
World's Most,
The Fire Engines,
Quantec,
Nick Fraelich,
Ice-T,
Von Mondo,
The Moleskins,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mad Mike,
H. Thieme,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.