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 Guatemala and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cymande,
Amazonics,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Darondo,
The Young Rascals,
8 Eyed Spy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Robert Hood,
Swans,
The Pretty Things,
Niagra,
Lindisfarne,
Yusef Lateef,
Average White Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Donny Hathaway,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Slackers,
Pere Ubu,
Blossom Toes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Alton Ellis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Circle Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
a-ha,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deadbeat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Moody Blues,
The Busters,
Brand Nubian,
Jawbox,
Clear Light,
Camberwell Now,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
Sound Behaviour,
Panda Bear,
Jerry's Kids,
Joensuu 1685,
Juan Atkins,
Erasure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Red Krayola,
These Immortal Souls,
The Searchers,
Pantytec,
Dark Day,
E-Dancer,
Moebius,
Derrick Morgan,
Mary Jane Girls,
China Crisis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Motorama,
Grey Daturas,
John Lydon,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.