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 Japan and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Terrestrial Tones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Seeds,
New York Dolls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gladiators,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pere Ubu,
Yusef Lateef,
Janne Schatter,
Rod Modell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hot Snakes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Index,
Wasted Youth,
Quantec,
Scion,
Sight & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tears for Fears,
Stockholm Monsters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
June of 44,
Icehouse,
Chrome,
kango's stein massive,
Malaria!,
Neil Young,
Kerri Chandler,
Gichy Dan,
Alphaville,
Danielle Patucci,
Harmonia,
Andrew Hill,
The Litter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Names,
Bobby Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Joy Division,
Ponytail,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marmalade,
Joey Negro,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Simply Red,
John Holt,
Black Bananas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Royal Trux,
The Searchers,
Rotary Connection,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash,
David McCallum,
The American Breed,
Jeff Mills,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.