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 Congo and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Neon Judgement to the punk 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Soulsonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
Intrusion,
Sarah Menescal,
Theoretical Girls,
Trumans Water,
The Selecter,
the Soft Cell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry's Kids,
Circle Jerks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pussy Galore,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pulsallama,
Liliput,
The Fortunes,
Joyce Sims,
Erasure,
DJ Style,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Masters at Work,
Fugazi,
Warsaw,
Todd Terry,
Ludus,
Chris & Cosey,
John Foxx,
Henry Cow,
Ronnie Foster,
Bluetip,
Kas Product,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chrome,
Lindisfarne,
Peter and Kerry,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Toasters,
Mission of Burma,
Max Romeo,
Index,
X-102,
Magma,
Newcleus,
Stockholm Monsters,
D'Angelo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ten City,
Mr. Review,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Black Dice,
kango's stein massive,
the Fania All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tommy Roe,
Wolf Eyes,
Whodini,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.