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 Tunisia and from Hong Kong.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Grandmaster Flash to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Marc Almond,
Moby Grape,
The Alarm Clocks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
ABBA,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cymande,
Smog,
Derrick May,
Newcleus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nick Fraelich,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Swans,
Marmalade,
Buzzcocks,
Slick Rick,
Rufus Thomas,
Inner City,
The Fugs,
Rosa Yemen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Vogues,
Thompson Twins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Patti Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Con Funk Shun,
The Raincoats,
Barry Ungar,
the Normal,
Ossler,
Barbara Tucker,
Letta Mbulu,
David Bowie,
Pierre Henry,
Agent Orange,
DJ Style,
Deakin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dave Gahan,
Altered Images,
Matthew Halsall,
Maurizio,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Womack,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Radiopuhelimet,
Anthony Braxton,
Eurythmics,
Pagans,
Theoretical Girls,
Loose Ends,
Icehouse,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.