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 Slovenia and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Flag,
Wasted Youth,
Yazoo,
Crime,
Prince Buster,
Tubeway Army,
Sexual Harrassment,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soul II Soul,
Gabor Szabo,
The Motions,
Scratch Acid,
Kerri Chandler,
Tom Boy,
DJ Sneak,
Matthew Halsall,
Second Layer,
Nas,
Ludus,
Amon Düül II,
The Remains,
Pulsallama,
U.S. Maple,
B.T. Express,
Interpol,
Groovy Waters,
The Mojo Men,
The Index,
The Knickerbockers,
Royal Trux,
The Zeros,
June Days,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Anthony Braxton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fugs,
New York Dolls,
JFA,
Amazonics,
Al Stewart,
Sixth Finger,
Bang On A Can,
Nirvana,
Fad Gadget,
Freddie Wadling,
The Pop Group,
David Bowie,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Human League,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cal Tjader,
Shoche,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Porter Ricks,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.