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 Bhutan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 Patti Smith to the dance 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Hasil Adkins,
Bootsy Collins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jawbox,
The Gladiators,
Lightning Bolt,
X-102,
Ice-T,
The Music Machine,
The Black Dice,
The Slits,
Bad Manners,
Tim Buckley,
Pole,
Mr. Review,
The Cowsills,
Tomorrow,
Iggy Pop,
Isaac Hayes,
Los Fastidios,
Television Personalities,
Cameo,
The Fortunes,
The Mummies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yellowson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jacques Brel,
Tom Boy,
The Mojo Men,
Average White Band,
Barry Ungar,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
FM Einheit,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Associates,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angry Samoans,
Infiniti,
Harry Pussy,
a-ha,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gories,
The Trojans,
Vladislav Delay,
Ken Boothe,
L. Decosne,
Ronnie Foster,
Intrusion,
The Blues Magoos,
Dead Boys,
Drexciya,
Nik Kershaw,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jeff Mills,
Masters at Work,
Aloha Tigers,
Hardrive,
Loose Ends,
Bush Tetras,
Nick Fraelich,
Goldenarms,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.