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 Taipei.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Lou Reed 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 Terry Callier to the grunge 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Camouflage,
Can,
Radio Birdman,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Fear,
Lou Reed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fluxion,
The Selecter,
Talk Talk,
Delta 5,
Tom Boy,
Unwound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Excepter,
Ultravox,
Robert Görl,
June Days,
The Smiths,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Pus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Zapp,
Depeche Mode,
Harmonia,
Funky Four + One,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Five Americans,
Junior Murvin,
John Foxx,
The American Breed,
Mad Mike,
Duran Duran,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Johnny Osbourne,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang On A Can,
Lindisfarne,
Parry Music,
Royal Trux,
The Move,
Dual Sessions,
Hoover,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barclay James Harvest,
Whodini,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stetsasonic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Clear Light,
Agitation Free,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Kinks,
Gabor Szabo,
Scrapy,
Reagan Youth,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.