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 Kazakhstan and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Unwound to the rap 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sun Ra,
Freddie Wadling,
Marvin Gaye,
Guru Guru,
Dennis Brown,
Oneida,
These Immortal Souls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
World's Most,
Royal Trux,
The Buckinghams,
Spandau Ballet,
Barry Ungar,
Bauhaus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Magma,
The Dead C,
The Saints,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
48th St. Collective,
Fela Kuti,
Colin Newman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fugs,
Simply Red,
Hardrive,
Robert Hood,
Joey Negro,
CMW,
H. Thieme,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Mills,
Lakeside,
Fugazi,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hashim,
Josef K,
Avey Tare,
Jandek,
Cymande,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
UT,
The Vogues,
Pantaleimon,
Sex Pistols,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sällskapet,
DJ Sneak,
Nick Fraelich,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New Age Steppers,
Nico,
Black Bananas,
Grauzone,
Aural Exciters,
Delon & Dalcan,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Maurizio,
Heaven 17,
Minnie Riperton,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.