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 Benin and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar 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 The Misunderstood 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jacques Brel,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barbara Tucker,
Second Layer,
kango's stein massive,
Yellowson,
The Cure,
Todd Terry,
The Divine Comedy,
Sarah Menescal,
Trumans Water,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Loose Ends,
Graham Central Station,
Peter and Kerry,
Juan Atkins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry's Kids,
Skarface,
Rod Modell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Blackbyrds,
Junior Murvin,
The Doors,
Mark Hollis,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tomorrow,
KRS-One,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
The Neon Judgement,
the Association,
Negative Approach,
Hashim,
The J.B.'s,
Joe Finger,
Underground Resistance,
Matthew Bourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Interpol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Chris Corsano,
Monks,
H. Thieme,
Robert Görl,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Offenders,
Hasil Adkins,
X-Ray Spex,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New York Dolls,
Albert Ayler,
These Immortal Souls,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.