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 Eritrea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Make Up to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
EPMD,
LL Cool J,
Cameo,
the Sonics,
Model 500,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pierre Henry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
E-Dancer,
10cc,
Scion,
Yaz,
Visage,
Mars,
Marvin Gaye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barrington Levy,
Schoolly D,
Eddi Front,
Sparks,
The Evens,
Suicide,
The Golliwogs,
Faraquet,
The Music Machine,
The Victims,
Connie Case,
Skriet,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
James Chance & The Contortions,
La Düsseldorf,
The Saints,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Wyatt,
Faust,
The Slits,
Dennis Brown,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Quando Quango,
Harpers Bizarre,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Howard Jones,
Dave Gahan,
AZ,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Cure,
The Five Americans,
Jawbox,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nik Kershaw,
Warsaw,
Gichy Dan,
Wire,
The Smiths,
Blancmange,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dual Sessions,
Qualms,
Bush Tetras,
Animal Collective,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.