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 East Timor and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Groovy Waters to the crunk 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Scion,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Absolute Body Control,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
cv313,
Whodini,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gories,
Don Cherry,
Boredoms,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Model 500,
Lebanon Hanover,
Reuben Wilson,
Popol Vuh,
Nirvana,
Excepter,
The Fortunes,
X-102,
Echospace,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Bananas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Little Man,
The United States of America,
Ronnie Foster,
New Age Steppers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Move,
CMW,
Ultra Naté,
Quadrant,
The Flesh Eaters,
ABBA,
Negative Approach,
Alison Limerick,
Barry Ungar,
The Mummies,
The Monks,
Cal Tjader,
Anakelly,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Drexciya,
The Cramps,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
D'Angelo,
Rod Modell,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brass Construction,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gladiators,
Harmonia,
Radiohead,
The Red Krayola,
Saccharine Trust,
T.S.O.L.,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.