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 Tajikistan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bill Wells to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Pretty Things,
Altered Images,
Boredoms,
Procol Harum,
Minutemen,
The Remains,
Yazoo,
X-101,
The Move,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Anthony Braxton,
Black Bananas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mark Hollis,
Max Romeo,
Lower 48,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Slackers,
Peter & Gordon,
Theoretical Girls,
One Last Wish,
Cal Tjader,
Quando Quango,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Angry Samoans,
Sarah Menescal,
David Bowie,
David Axelrod,
Radio Birdman,
Banda Bassotti,
AZ,
Public Image Ltd.,
Newcleus,
Jerry's Kids,
John Coltrane,
Amon Düül II,
John Lydon,
Dave Gahan,
Flipper,
F. McDonald,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Magazine,
Minor Threat,
Ituana,
Hot Snakes,
Pantytec,
Pole,
Ludus,
The Fall,
Barrington Levy,
Aswad,
Technova,
New Order,
Duran Duran,
Kayak,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ken Boothe,
Excepter,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.