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 Panama and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Severed Heads to the techno 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Fugazi,
Barbara Tucker,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kerri Chandler,
Aaron Thompson,
Magma,
Fear,
Lee Hazlewood,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Alton Ellis,
Patti Smith,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Victims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Josef K,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultimate Spinach,
The United States of America,
Fad Gadget,
Dual Sessions,
The Sonics,
Dark Day,
Echospace,
Arab on Radar,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Kinks,
The Skatalites,
Wasted Youth,
Circle Jerks,
Accadde A,
the Normal,
Colin Newman,
Glenn Branca,
The Moody Blues,
The Durutti Column,
Deepchord,
The Monks,
Suburban Knight,
Deadbeat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Divine Comedy,
These Immortal Souls,
June of 44,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siglo XX,
Porter Ricks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Freddie Wadling,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cybotron,
Khruangbin,
Crime,
Second Layer,
Eddi Front,
Warren Ellis,
Altered Images,
OOIOO,
Sound Behaviour,
Sixth Finger,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.