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 Chile and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator 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 Todd Terry to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Siglo XX,
The Gories,
Cluster,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare,
Hardrive,
Rotary Connection,
The Evens,
Aloha Tigers,
Model 500,
T. Rex,
Slick Rick,
Minutemen,
Clear Light,
Fluxion,
Scratch Acid,
Stiv Bators,
Grey Daturas,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nirvana,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jeff Mills,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Henry Cow,
Pagans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Inner City,
Procol Harum,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Delta 5,
Cymande,
Negative Approach,
Los Fastidios,
The Electric Prunes,
Kas Product,
Freddie Wadling,
the Bar-Kays,
Stockholm Monsters,
R.M.O.,
Nas,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monks,
The Pop Group,
The Pretty Things,
Duran Duran,
Colin Newman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nik Kershaw,
DJ Style,
Motorama,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ossler,
Graham Central Station,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Maurizio,
The Birthday Party,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.