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 Niger and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Donald Byrd to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Slave,
Au Pairs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gories,
Nation of Ulysses,
In Retrospect,
Mary Jane Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Jerry's Kids,
Livin' Joy,
Minor Threat,
The Residents,
The Cramps,
Nas,
Pussy Galore,
Shuggie Otis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fortunes,
Fad Gadget,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Wells,
Hardrive,
Youth Brigade,
ABC,
Hot Snakes,
The Searchers,
Black Flag,
The Moody Blues,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kayak,
Altered Images,
Circle Jerks,
Pagans,
Bush Tetras,
The Durutti Column,
Black Sheep,
Simply Red,
Index,
Tom Boy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wings,
the Normal,
Echospace,
The Slackers,
Tommy Roe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radio Birdman,
The Alarm Clocks,
ABBA,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.