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 Afghanistan and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
B.T. Express,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Fortunes,
Kerri Chandler,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jandek,
Erykah Badu,
The Raincoats,
June Days,
Agent Orange,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tom Boy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brass Construction,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nils Olav,
The Gun Club,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Remains,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crash Course in Science,
Grauzone,
Zero Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultravox,
Japan,
These Immortal Souls,
Josef K,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yazoo,
Pere Ubu,
Alice Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minutemen,
Kas Product,
The Toasters,
Clear Light,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stereo Dub,
MC5,
Metal Thangz,
Todd Terry,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Isaac Hayes,
Ohio Players,
Gregory Isaacs,
Urselle,
Pantytec,
Oblivians,
Dawn Penn,
Radiopuhelimet,
Liliput,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.