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 Djibouti and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Desert Stars,
Tom Boy,
Peter & Gordon,
Pantytec,
Interpol,
Swans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ossler,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blues Magoos,
James White and The Blacks,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gap Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Moss Icon,
Al Stewart,
Yaz,
Idris Muhammad,
the Sonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moby Grape,
Magazine,
World's Most,
L. Decosne,
Donny Hathaway,
Rufus Thomas,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Malaria!,
Deadbeat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thompson Twins,
Hasil Adkins,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scan 7,
The Stooges,
The Shadows of Knight,
Massinfluence,
Radiohead,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Invisible,
Black Flag,
Circle Jerks,
Urselle,
Ohio Players,
Sixth Finger,
Barrington Levy,
Popol Vuh,
Agitation Free,
Whodini,
John Holt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes,
DJ Sneak,
Althea and Donna,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.