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 the UAE and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer 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 Nico to the rock 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Ossler,
The Fire Engines,
Pagans,
Joy Division,
Accadde A,
June of 44,
Talk Talk,
Yusef Lateef,
The Toasters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dennis Brown,
James White and The Blacks,
Joe Finger,
Malaria!,
Minutemen,
Kool Moe Dee,
Matthew Bourne,
Roger Hodgson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Second Layer,
Rod Modell,
Minny Pops,
Eli Mardock,
The Sonics,
Porter Ricks,
Grauzone,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
JFA,
Blossom Toes,
Traffic Nightmare,
B.T. Express,
The Walker Brothers,
Soft Cell,
The Knickerbockers,
Chris Corsano,
The Durutti Column,
the Swans,
Sun City Girls,
Camouflage,
The Electric Prunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Offenders,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Albert Ayler,
Shuggie Otis,
Shoche,
Simply Red,
Alice Coltrane,
Slick Rick,
Crooked Eye,
Swell Maps,
Warsaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.