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 Korea North and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Prince Buster to the techno 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin 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 theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Dave Gahan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cure,
Suburban Knight,
The Toasters,
Derrick May,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Five Americans,
Darondo,
Country Teasers,
June of 44,
Scion,
Basic Channel,
Fugazi,
Soul Sonic Force,
The American Breed,
Mark Hollis,
FM Einheit,
Hasil Adkins,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cameo,
Marine Girls,
Mars,
Lungfish,
Ronan,
Nico,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sixth Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gladiators,
Con Funk Shun,
Alphaville,
The Red Krayola,
Metal Thangz,
The Raincoats,
Can,
Fat Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Modern Lovers,
The Gories,
Sarah Menescal,
Nik Kershaw,
Wally Richardson,
James White and The Blacks,
The Count Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiohead,
Moby Grape,
Gabor Szabo,
The Smiths,
Little Man,
Tomorrow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Japan,
Donny Hathaway,
Wire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Accadde A,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.