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 Tunisia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ludus to the grunge 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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 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?
Tears for Fears,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dead Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
CMW,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kayak,
Tom Boy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Intrusion,
Crime,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kool Moe Dee,
Toni Rubio,
Unwound,
T.S.O.L.,
New Age Steppers,
MDC,
Swans,
Graham Central Station,
The Zeros,
Bauhaus,
John Holt,
The Searchers,
Alison Limerick,
Henry Cow,
Clear Light,
Malaria!,
Mo-Dettes,
Skriet,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Soft Cell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Electric Prunes,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
China Crisis,
Donald Byrd,
Freddie Wadling,
Sugar Minott,
Shuggie Otis,
Rod Modell,
Pere Ubu,
Hasil Adkins,
Whodini,
The Cramps,
Tommy Roe,
Lightning Bolt,
Brand Nubian,
Half Japanese,
Max Romeo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Theoretical Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Maleditus Sound,
The Techniques,
DJ Style,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mary Jane Girls,
Drexciya,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.