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 Mozambique and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the dance 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Stetsasonic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Slits,
The Barracudas,
Chris Corsano,
Agent Orange,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pantaleimon,
World's Most,
Davy DMX,
The Misunderstood,
The Blackbyrds,
a-ha,
The Wake,
The Pop Group,
The Leaves,
Marine Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Silicon Teens,
Radiopuhelimet,
ABC,
Tres Demented,
The Offenders,
Oblivians,
Ralphi Rosario,
Traffic Nightmare,
Swell Maps,
Dennis Brown,
Ituana,
The Gories,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Zeros,
The Litter,
The Monks,
Ten City,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
Babytalk,
the Germs,
Sight & Sound,
Cal Tjader,
Zapp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tim Buckley,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Clarke,
Eurythmics,
Mandrill,
Minutemen,
Archie Shepp,
Kurtis Blow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Derrick May,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Royal Trux,
Urselle,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Last Poets,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.