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 Kuwait and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 David Bowie 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
The Vogues,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ronan,
Ludus,
Stetsasonic,
Monolake,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ossler,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
The Searchers,
Popol Vuh,
Audionom,
The Names,
Lightning Bolt,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bush Tetras,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cameo,
Cybotron,
Faust,
Alphaville,
Infiniti,
The Beau Brummels,
Unwound,
Hasil Adkins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultra Naté,
Robert Hood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Theoretical Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Monochrome Set,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Deakin,
Spandau Ballet,
The Associates,
Ice-T,
Television Personalities,
The Human League,
Jawbox,
Inner City,
The Gories,
Nils Olav,
Jacob Miller,
Das Ding,
Althea and Donna,
China Crisis,
The Cowsills,
The Blackbyrds,
Angry Samoans,
Connie Case,
Rhythm & Sound,
Maurizio,
Sex Pistols,
Basic Channel,
Suburban Knight,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.