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 Ireland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the grunge 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
The Toasters,
Mantronix,
Peter & Gordon,
New York Dolls,
Tommy Roe,
Freddie Wadling,
Ten City,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sixth Finger,
Wings,
Marvin Gaye,
The United States of America,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scan 7,
Chris Corsano,
Khruangbin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
PIL,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fire Engines,
The Cowsills,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Sonics,
The Moleskins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jawbox,
The Beau Brummels,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
The Index,
Grauzone,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dead C,
Lucky Dragons,
Chris & Cosey,
The Litter,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Starr,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Blackbyrds,
Lalann,
The Human League,
X-102,
Scrapy,
Dawn Penn,
Terry Callier,
Angry Samoans,
Crime,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kaleidoscope,
Fat Boys,
Jacques Brel,
the Sonics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeff Mills,
Fear,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.