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 Hungary and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Loose Ends to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
T. Rex,
Basic Channel,
Gabor Szabo,
Ice-T,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Music Machine,
Warren Ellis,
Drexciya,
The Move,
Byron Stingily,
The Seeds,
The Barracudas,
Shuggie Otis,
The Last Poets,
Pantaleimon,
The Dirtbombs,
The Five Americans,
Black Moon,
Lungfish,
Spandau Ballet,
Niagra,
Panda Bear,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Chris Corsano,
The Raincoats,
Suburban Knight,
Maleditus Sound,
Desert Stars,
Dead Boys,
Pylon,
Babytalk,
Metal Thangz,
Gong,
Black Bananas,
48th St. Collective,
the Germs,
Alphaville,
The Names,
Gerry Rafferty,
Todd Rundgren,
The Saints,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aswad,
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
In Retrospect,
Godley & Creme,
Harmonia,
Whodini,
Tim Buckley,
Youth Brigade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Suicide,
Animal Collective,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.