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 Costa Rica and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Bobby Womack,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tommy Roe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Von Mondo,
The Count Five,
Gang of Four,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gichy Dan,
the Swans,
Deakin,
Marvin Gaye,
Guru Guru,
The Fire Engines,
Television Personalities,
The Star Department,
Yusef Lateef,
Marine Girls,
The Five Americans,
Panda Bear,
The Last Poets,
Black Flag,
the Soft Cell,
Junior Murvin,
U.S. Maple,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy Collins,
the Normal,
Robert Görl,
Nils Olav,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultra Naté,
Q and Not U,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Newcleus,
Harry Pussy,
The Selecter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nirvana,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Can,
Tom Boy,
Flash Fearless,
Tears for Fears,
T. Rex,
The Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Jandek,
Ice-T,
LL Cool J,
Bauhaus,
Fat Boys,
The Pop Group,
The Mummies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Donny Hathaway,
Khruangbin,
Black Bananas,
Alison Limerick,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.