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 Philippines and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Count Five to the electroclash 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonic Youth,
Tommy Roe,
Excepter,
The Moleskins,
Groovy Waters,
The United States of America,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Near,
L. Decosne,
Organ,
Rakim,
James White and The Blacks,
Suicide,
Supertramp,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Cale,
Brass Construction,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Average White Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Donny Hathaway,
the Bar-Kays,
Nation of Ulysses,
Accadde A,
Tom Boy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minor Threat,
June of 44,
Tubeway Army,
The Invisible,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rapeman,
Marine Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pantytec,
Slave,
Lakeside,
Dark Day,
48th St. Collective,
Magazine,
T.S.O.L.,
Leonard Cohen,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Germs,
Negative Approach,
Animal Collective,
Letta Mbulu,
Bill Wells,
Lungfish,
Angry Samoans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Godley & Creme,
Aural Exciters,
CMW,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Matthew Bourne,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.