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 Libya and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lille.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Joyce Sims,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Slits,
Symarip,
The Red Krayola,
Albert Ayler,
Sex Pistols,
Toni Rubio,
Colin Newman,
The Black Dice,
Soulsonic Force,
Television,
The Knickerbockers,
Circle Jerks,
Jawbox,
The Young Rascals,
The J.B.'s,
Monks,
Ituana,
Prince Buster,
K-Klass,
Yusef Lateef,
Bob Dylan,
In Retrospect,
Infiniti,
Alton Ellis,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Offenders,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ludus,
Siglo XX,
Rosa Yemen,
CMW,
The Dirtbombs,
Nas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Suicide,
Zero Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Reagan Youth,
MDC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Vladislav Delay,
Mantronix,
The Selecter,
The Fall,
Amon Düül II,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Man Eating Sloth,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sonics,
Eddi Front,
Can,
Lightning Bolt,
Television Personalities,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skriet,
The Litter,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.