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 Cameroon and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bang On A Can to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Don Cherry,
Vladislav Delay,
Thee Headcoats,
Jacques Brel,
Magma,
Funkadelic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Human League,
Royal Trux,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cecil Taylor,
Make Up,
Cheater Slicks,
Arab on Radar,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moody Blues,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pantytec,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Motions,
Camouflage,
Ronnie Foster,
Eddi Front,
Aaron Thompson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Smog,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Davy DMX,
The J.B.'s,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Techniques,
Nick Fraelich,
Sonic Youth,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Tubeway Army,
Radio Birdman,
Cymande,
The Divine Comedy,
The Searchers,
John Coltrane,
Cal Tjader,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sun Ra,
Duran Duran,
Zero Boys,
Desert Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bill Near,
The Five Americans,
Hot Snakes,
Flash Fearless,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Germs,
Section 25,
Ludus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.