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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare 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 The Moleskins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Jandek,
New Order,
Todd Terry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bootsy Collins,
Heaven 17,
Minutemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Knickerbockers,
Unwound,
Lightning Bolt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rekid,
The Moleskins,
John Foxx,
Newcleus,
X-101,
Marc Almond,
Sister Nancy,
Mars,
Make Up,
Basic Channel,
Slave,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Flag,
Hoover,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grey Daturas,
Au Pairs,
Angry Samoans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nik Kershaw,
Pantytec,
Zapp,
The Walker Brothers,
Amon Düül II,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q and Not U,
Fatback Band,
Second Layer,
Lower 48,
World's Most,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
Gong,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tres Demented,
The Moody Blues,
Audionom,
The Gories,
The Doors,
Loose Ends,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pet Shop Boys,
Throbbing Gristle,
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.