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 Kosovo and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Invisible to the funk 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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Ronan,
Flash Fearless,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Colin Newman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fire Engines,
Chrome,
Tres Demented,
June of 44,
D'Angelo,
La Düsseldorf,
Depeche Mode,
Sandy B,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Divine Comedy,
Unwound,
Symarip,
The Skatalites,
Delta 5,
Scott Walker,
Warsaw,
Excepter,
The Human League,
Joe Finger,
Charles Mingus,
The Moleskins,
LL Cool J,
Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bill Near,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cal Tjader,
Drexciya,
Qualms,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Chris & Cosey,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joe Smooth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
Junior Murvin,
The Trojans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stockholm Monsters,
Todd Terry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marine Girls,
Malaria!,
Hashim,
Eddi Front,
Janne Schatter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Essential Logic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dead Boys,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.