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 Mauritania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Derrick May to the electroclash 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Can,
La Düsseldorf,
Magazine,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jeff Mills,
Porter Ricks,
The Modern Lovers,
UT,
ABC,
Lungfish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fire Engines,
Newcleus,
Sarah Menescal,
Nas,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gladiators,
Audionom,
Wasted Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
The Toasters,
Khruangbin,
Scientists,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radiohead,
Soul II Soul,
Eve St. Jones,
Blake Baxter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sandy B,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Trojans,
Shuggie Otis,
Mr. Review,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gories,
Supertramp,
Tom Boy,
Inner City,
L. Decosne,
Jandek,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
June of 44,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Leaves,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Q and Not U,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Busters,
Cheater Slicks,
Ronan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Motions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
E-Dancer,
Aural Exciters,
The New Christs,
Eurythmics,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.