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 Tonga and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gastr Del Sol to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gladiators,
Eric B and Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Scrapy,
Jeff Lynne,
The New Christs,
Saccharine Trust,
DNA,
Peter and Kerry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Liliput,
Hardrive,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sonic Youth,
Section 25,
Quadrant,
Pharoah Sanders,
Anthony Braxton,
Tom Boy,
Index,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronnie Foster,
LL Cool J,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mission of Burma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Banda Bassotti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Organ,
Skaos,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eddi Front,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bluetip,
Erasure,
Toni Rubio,
The Evens,
Ken Boothe,
The Slits,
the Normal,
Shoche,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Womack,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gabor Szabo,
Robert Görl,
Popol Vuh,
Little Man,
Sällskapet,
Mo-Dettes,
The Kinks,
KRS-One,
Carl Craig,
Ituana,
The Mojo Men,
Circle Jerks,
Basic Channel,
June of 44,
Tres Demented,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.