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 Micronesia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Crooked Eye to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Hot Snakes,
Yellowson,
Barrington Levy,
Pere Ubu,
Josef K,
The Blues Magoos,
The Martian,
These Immortal Souls,
Blancmange,
Terry Callier,
June Days,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Swans,
John Foxx,
The Kinks,
Niagra,
UT,
Ten City,
Pantytec,
Mars,
Joe Finger,
Tubeway Army,
Pantaleimon,
Nick Fraelich,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Machine,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Pole,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
U.S. Maple,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
PIL,
E-Dancer,
New Order,
Cal Tjader,
Tomorrow,
Unrelated Segments,
The Evens,
The Remains,
Pulsallama,
Eric Copeland,
The Neon Judgement,
Vladislav Delay,
the Association,
Sister Nancy,
Porter Ricks,
The Star Department,
The Misunderstood,
Crash Course in Science,
Yusef Lateef,
The Raincoats,
Public Image Ltd.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
The Leaves,
Mission of Burma,
The Monks,
Suicide,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.