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 Iran and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Nas 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Marshall Jefferson,
The New Christs,
Harry Pussy,
KRS-One,
the Association,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soft Machine,
David Axelrod,
Harpers Bizarre,
Oblivians,
Gang Starr,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Saccharine Trust,
The Vogues,
Neu!,
Circle Jerks,
Davy DMX,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerri Chandler,
Whodini,
Tears for Fears,
Country Teasers,
Eli Mardock,
The Misunderstood,
Lalann,
Henry Cow,
Bootsy Collins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lower 48,
Reagan Youth,
Sister Nancy,
The Gladiators,
Marvin Gaye,
Altered Images,
Eddi Front,
Au Pairs,
Minnie Riperton,
The Invisible,
Eve St. Jones,
Suicide,
The Smoke,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
ABC,
Matthew Halsall,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Freddie Wadling,
Cabaret Voltaire,
China Crisis,
Mantronix,
Hardrive,
Black Bananas,
Spoonie Gee,
Mo-Dettes,
The Names,
cv313,
Judy Mowatt,
Don Cherry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.