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 Zimbabwe and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Magma to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Thee Headcoats,
Tim Buckley,
Goldenarms,
Henry Cow,
Second Layer,
Infiniti,
Bobby Sherman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cameo,
The Slackers,
The Fall,
The Angels of Light,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Görl,
Pet Shop Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Chris Corsano,
Alison Limerick,
The Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
Crime,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Flag,
Eddi Front,
Funky Four + One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Von Mondo,
The Gories,
DJ Sneak,
Scrapy,
Black Sheep,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Mojo Men,
Yusef Lateef,
The Star Department,
The Toasters,
Index,
Bill Near,
Lungfish,
New York Dolls,
The Cure,
Laurel Aitken,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Agitation Free,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun Ra,
Y Pants,
Rufus Thomas,
Todd Terry,
the Slits,
Scratch Acid,
Boz Scaggs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Johnny Osbourne,
Unwound,
Peter & Gordon,
Rites of Spring,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.