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 Peru and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jeru the Damaja to the funk 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
The Mojo Men,
The United States of America,
Basic Channel,
Susan Cadogan,
Max Romeo,
Eve St. Jones,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flash Fearless,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter & Gordon,
The Moleskins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Throbbing Gristle,
D'Angelo,
Yellowson,
Wolf Eyes,
Mission of Burma,
Nation of Ulysses,
8 Eyed Spy,
Arcadia,
Bizarre Inc.,
Make Up,
AZ,
Moby Grape,
Dark Day,
Lindisfarne,
The Knickerbockers,
Maleditus Sound,
Faust,
Buzzcocks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Absolute Body Control,
Moebius,
Mad Mike,
Howard Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joyce Sims,
Pere Ubu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Heaven 17,
Neu!,
Easy Going,
Jesper Dahlback,
Urselle,
Peter and Kerry,
Electric Prunes,
Depeche Mode,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Drexciya,
Echospace,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fuzztones,
New York Dolls,
The Standells,
La Düsseldorf,
Ice-T,
Suicide,
ABC,
Jacques Brel,
The Human League,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.