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 Tanzania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
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 guitar 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 Gregory Isaacs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads 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 jazz 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Con Funk Shun,
Gastr Del Sol,
Zapp,
Bob Dylan,
Bang On A Can,
Pagans,
Lungfish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Patti Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Traffic Nightmare,
Goldenarms,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Buzzcocks,
The Dead C,
The Beau Brummels,
Terry Callier,
Morten Harket,
Dead Boys,
Kayak,
John Coltrane,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Public Enemy,
Negative Approach,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Five Americans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gichy Dan,
Second Layer,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Birthday Party,
The Techniques,
The Cure,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sound Behaviour,
Sarah Menescal,
Jeff Lynne,
Fat Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wally Richardson,
Livin' Joy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Flesh Eaters,
Outsiders,
Angry Samoans,
Excepter,
Fatback Band,
Graham Central Station,
Spandau Ballet,
Tubeway Army,
Yellowson,
Duran Duran,
Groovy Waters,
D'Angelo,
B.T. Express,
Animal Collective,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.