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 Korea North and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Donny Hathaway to the electroclash 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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Gap Band,
Amon Düül,
Suicide,
The Seeds,
The Pretty Things,
Danielle Patucci,
B.T. Express,
Public Image Ltd.,
Suburban Knight,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cameo,
Bill Near,
Derrick May,
John Foxx,
Angry Samoans,
Monks,
Roy Ayers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Josef K,
Letta Mbulu,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moleskins,
Monolake,
John Lydon,
Los Fastidios,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sonics,
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Morten Harket,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Womack,
Joe Smooth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mummies,
Quando Quango,
Cluster,
Kerri Chandler,
the Human League,
Neil Young,
Terrestrial Tones,
Todd Terry,
Main Source,
Gil Scott Heron,
Khruangbin,
Yaz,
Moss Icon,
Nick Fraelich,
Rhythm & Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Wells,
KRS-One,
Spandau Ballet,
Scratch Acid,
Patti Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Index,
Toni Rubio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.