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 Haiti and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Section 25 to the grunge 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dirtbombs,
Connie Case,
The Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Knickerbockers,
Oneida,
Jandek,
Popol Vuh,
Eric B and Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Au Pairs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Hasil Adkins,
Archie Shepp,
Livin' Joy,
Model 500,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Alarm Clocks,
ABBA,
The Mummies,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultimate Spinach,
The United States of America,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Average White Band,
Porter Ricks,
Metal Thangz,
Soul II Soul,
Prince Buster,
Hot Snakes,
Loose Ends,
Warsaw,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun Ra,
Danielle Patucci,
Chris & Cosey,
Aloha Tigers,
John Holt,
Gichy Dan,
Severed Heads,
Electric Prunes,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
PIL,
The Blues Magoos,
Excepter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Clear Light,
Simply Red,
Fluxion,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.