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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Q65 to the rap 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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Jeff Lynne,
Boogie Down Productions,
H. Thieme,
Crime,
The Residents,
JFA,
Jawbox,
Eurythmics,
Ohio Players,
World's Most,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aloha Tigers,
Television,
Vladislav Delay,
Maurizio,
Ornette Coleman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smiths,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blancmange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Blake Baxter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Offenders,
Rapeman,
Slick Rick,
Nirvana,
Mandrill,
The Durutti Column,
The Wake,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lightning Bolt,
Pulsallama,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yellowson,
Ossler,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Warsaw,
Circle Jerks,
Tim Buckley,
Scratch Acid,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
Hardrive,
Q65,
Niagra,
Smog,
Cheater Slicks,
Hasil Adkins,
Make Up,
Scion,
Royal Trux,
Yaz,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.