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 Kenya and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hardrive to the crunk 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Excepter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Neil Young,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Avey Tare,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dirtbombs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Ossler,
Arthur Verocai,
Grauzone,
The Buckinghams,
Nas,
The Mojo Men,
Hashim,
Ultra Naté,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobby Byrd,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Tubeway Army,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eurythmics,
Nils Olav,
Das Ding,
Nirvana,
Marcia Griffiths,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aural Exciters,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Flipper,
Crime,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Grass Roots,
Yaz,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Suburban Knight,
Glenn Branca,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Panda Bear,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Throbbing Gristle,
Amazonics,
Jimmy McGriff,
Radio Birdman,
The Kinks,
ABC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Section 25,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grandmaster Flash,
Public Enemy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.