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 China and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Rosa Yemen to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cybotron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Technova,
the Germs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joensuu 1685,
Mark Hollis,
Franke,
Tom Boy,
Subhumans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Faraquet,
Connie Case,
The Trojans,
Underground Resistance,
Yazoo,
The Neon Judgement,
Fugazi,
Negative Approach,
The Kinks,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Remains,
The Names,
Skriet,
Shuggie Otis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pulsallama,
E-Dancer,
Desert Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Radio Birdman,
Cal Tjader,
Tommy Roe,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Ultravox,
Barbara Tucker,
Nick Fraelich,
Bill Near,
The Move,
DNA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marvin Gaye,
Alton Ellis,
The Martian,
Minny Pops,
PIL,
Suburban Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxette,
Chris Corsano,
Black Flag,
The Offenders,
Piero Umiliani,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.