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 Morocco and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Quando Quango to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rites of Spring,
Mad Mike,
Kurtis Blow,
The Slackers,
Marvin Gaye,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Smooth,
Black Bananas,
The J.B.'s,
Lindisfarne,
Derrick May,
Delta 5,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barry Ungar,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review,
H. Thieme,
Pylon,
Adolescents,
Janne Schatter,
Desert Stars,
Maurizio,
Lalann,
The Happenings,
Buzzcocks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New York Dolls,
The Young Rascals,
Hoover,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dirtbombs,
World's Most,
Dave Gahan,
Groovy Waters,
Khruangbin,
X-101,
Accadde A,
Severed Heads,
Gichy Dan,
Harpers Bizarre,
B.T. Express,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fugazi,
Andrew Hill,
Country Teasers,
Tim Buckley,
The Move,
48th St. Collective,
Fad Gadget,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.