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 Switzerland and from Spokane.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Darondo to the dance 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Man Parrish,
Sparks,
Quadrant,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Pretty Things,
Grandmaster Flash,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Metal Thangz,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scratch Acid,
Harry Pussy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pantytec,
Outsiders,
Glenn Branca,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Loose Ends,
Boz Scaggs,
the Sonics,
Alton Ellis,
Monolake,
Bronski Beat,
Jeff Mills,
Eden Ahbez,
cv313,
Qualms,
X-102,
Robert Wyatt,
The Slits,
This Heat,
The Trojans,
Aural Exciters,
Drexciya,
ABBA,
Basic Channel,
The Cowsills,
Davy DMX,
Minor Threat,
The Happenings,
Henry Cow,
The Martian,
These Immortal Souls,
Agent Orange,
Camberwell Now,
Sun City Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Animal Collective,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fuzztones,
Q and Not U,
Kaleidoscope,
Black Moon,
June of 44,
Neu!,
Television Personalities,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.