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 Macedonia and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Lou Reed 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 Slits to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Byrd,
The Litter,
Ohio Players,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faraquet,
Reuben Wilson,
Pantaleimon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dead Boys,
Livin' Joy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boogie Down Productions,
Slick Rick,
Echospace,
Chrome,
Sam Rivers,
The Grass Roots,
Carl Craig,
Moebius,
the Normal,
Minutemen,
June Days,
Vladislav Delay,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fad Gadget,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker,
Public Image Ltd.,
Vainqueur,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
the Slits,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Franke,
Byron Stingily,
Lower 48,
Don Cherry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bootsy Collins,
Guru Guru,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ludus,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Terry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deakin,
Bauhaus,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Birthday Party,
Kenny Larkin,
Icehouse,
Urselle,
Eddi Front,
Sixth Finger,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.