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 Gabon and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Warren Ellis to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nick Fraelich,
Moby Grape,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wasted Youth,
Interpol,
The Kinks,
The Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Q65,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric Copeland,
Joe Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
Grey Daturas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yazoo,
Blancmange,
the Normal,
June of 44,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nation of Ulysses,
DJ Style,
Soulsonic Force,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fire Engines,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chrome,
Charles Mingus,
Mad Mike,
Pierre Henry,
The Motions,
Anthony Braxton,
Brand Nubian,
The Offenders,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neu!,
Kevin Saunderson,
Idris Muhammad,
Lalo Schifrin,
Connie Case,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slackers,
Juan Atkins,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Names,
Ice-T,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fugs,
Lou Reed,
Monks,
Royal Trux,
John Cale,
The Gun Club,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.