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 Yemen and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Kaleidoscope,
Sixth Finger,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Görl,
Soul Sonic Force,
Panda Bear,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tres Demented,
The Raincoats,
Bill Near,
Morten Harket,
Smog,
Gabor Szabo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sister Nancy,
Harry Pussy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angry Samoans,
Oblivians,
Icehouse,
Cybotron,
Josef K,
KRS-One,
Cameo,
Terry Callier,
Joensuu 1685,
Grey Daturas,
Silicon Teens,
The Cure,
Agitation Free,
Jesper Dahlback,
B.T. Express,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sam Rivers,
Depeche Mode,
The Toasters,
Monks,
Skaos,
The Busters,
Grauzone,
Pylon,
The Blues Magoos,
Aural Exciters,
AZ,
R.M.O.,
Sun City Girls,
The Gories,
Freddie Wadling,
Donny Hathaway,
Slick Rick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Drexciya,
This Heat,
Dawn Penn,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.