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 Laos and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 The Stooges to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rod Modell,
The Monks,
Tommy Roe,
Roger Hodgson,
Mandrill,
Glenn Branca,
Yazoo,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
Barrington Levy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Reuben Wilson,
Pylon,
The Smiths,
Magma,
Liliput,
Excepter,
UT,
Livin' Joy,
Connie Case,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Swans,
Surgeon,
Animal Collective,
June of 44,
Sound Behaviour,
Flash Fearless,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mars,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Qualms,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Hood,
Eric Dolphy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bill Near,
Pharoah Sanders,
Whodini,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Khruangbin,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fugs,
Gang Starr,
Amazonics,
Japan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Idris Muhammad,
The Searchers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
48th St. Collective,
Rufus Thomas,
Index,
The Alarm Clocks,
Desert Stars,
Mission of Burma,
The Selecter,
Suicide,
Symarip,
The Seeds,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.