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 Romania and from Manchester.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Little Man to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
The Litter,
Silicon Teens,
Gichy Dan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Max Romeo,
Howard Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pagans,
Faraquet,
CMW,
Buzzcocks,
Khruangbin,
Boredoms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dirtbombs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Aural Exciters,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fortunes,
Laurel Aitken,
PIL,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crispy Ambulance,
Monks,
Ludus,
Nas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
DNA,
Sun City Girls,
The Standells,
Slick Rick,
Lightning Bolt,
Minny Pops,
Davy DMX,
The Stooges,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Saccharine Trust,
Mark Hollis,
Maleditus Sound,
Yaz,
Rakim,
Outsiders,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Osbourne,
Second Layer,
Robert Görl,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Velvet Underground,
Stetsasonic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Human League,
Brick,
The Blues Magoos,
Bang On A Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.