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 Chile and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 New Christs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tim Buckley,
Y Pants,
Little Man,
Trumans Water,
Charles Mingus,
The Evens,
The Saints,
Al Stewart,
Yazoo,
Harry Pussy,
Janne Schatter,
Arcadia,
The Motions,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Vogues,
Bauhaus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Monochrome Set,
Morten Harket,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cymande,
Moss Icon,
David McCallum,
Toni Rubio,
T.S.O.L.,
Brick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Görl,
The Selecter,
Television,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deepchord,
Kerri Chandler,
Deakin,
Public Enemy,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers,
the Human League,
The Flesh Eaters,
Slick Rick,
The Move,
Erykah Badu,
Excepter,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Seeds,
Wings,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Flipper,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Magazine,
Flash Fearless,
The Fuzztones,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.