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 Suriname and from Tokyo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Saccharine Trust to the rap 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yazoo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Iggy Pop,
Tres Demented,
B.T. Express,
Moby Grape,
Nik Kershaw,
Anakelly,
Sarah Menescal,
Tom Boy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Faust,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Royal Trux,
Dual Sessions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Standells,
Cheater Slicks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Radio Birdman,
Bang On A Can,
Andrew Hill,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Avey Tare,
Bush Tetras,
Archie Shepp,
Sun Ra,
Idris Muhammad,
Cluster,
The Neon Judgement,
CMW,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bootsy Collins,
Circle Jerks,
Unrelated Segments,
Blossom Toes,
Hasil Adkins,
Maleditus Sound,
The Happenings,
Rod Modell,
Eve St. Jones,
Jawbox,
Black Bananas,
The Saints,
The Vogues,
Silicon Teens,
Joe Finger,
The Cowsills,
Susan Cadogan,
The Busters,
the Bar-Kays,
The New Christs,
The Gap Band,
ABC,
Theoretical Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.