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 Mali and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Gladiators to the funk 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Rites of Spring,
Drive Like Jehu,
Isaac Hayes,
Al Stewart,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cymande,
Nirvana,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sällskapet,
June of 44,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wolf Eyes,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Davy DMX,
a-ha,
Crime,
Wasted Youth,
Spandau Ballet,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
JFA,
Yaz,
Public Enemy,
The Vogues,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Joe Finger,
Traffic Nightmare,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Names,
Drexciya,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Interpol,
Grauzone,
Little Man,
Yazoo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ponytail,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Smog,
The Selecter,
Yellowson,
Soulsonic Force,
The Seeds,
Mantronix,
Cecil Taylor,
Cameo,
Robert Wyatt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gun Club,
Porter Ricks,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Leaves,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skaos,
The Divine Comedy,
Skriet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.