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 Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
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 arpeggiator 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 Jeff Lynne to the crunk 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dennis Brown,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jawbox,
FM Einheit,
Rotary Connection,
The Last Poets,
The Stooges,
Silicon Teens,
OOIOO,
Jerry's Kids,
Au Pairs,
U.S. Maple,
This Heat,
Babytalk,
Kayak,
Smog,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Newcleus,
Roy Ayers,
Harry Pussy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultra Naté,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cymande,
Camberwell Now,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Roxette,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Swans,
Second Layer,
Spoonie Gee,
Circle Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
JFA,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Human League,
Zero Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lightning Bolt,
Whodini,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Sonics,
Altered Images,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deadbeat,
Echospace,
Aloha Tigers,
Dave Gahan,
The American Breed,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Hill,
Clear Light,
Don Cherry,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.