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 Grenada and from London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 June Days to the dance 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Quantec,
Lyres,
Hardrive,
Angry Samoans,
Inner City,
Warren Ellis,
The Saints,
EPMD,
Scott Walker,
Alice Coltrane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tim Buckley,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Anakelly,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fugazi,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ronnie Foster,
Unrelated Segments,
Clear Light,
Crispy Ambulance,
LL Cool J,
Icehouse,
Pantytec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Electric Prunes,
Deepchord,
Ornette Coleman,
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arab on Radar,
The Offenders,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Sherman,
Howard Jones,
Gastr Del Sol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Simply Red,
The Kinks,
The Mojo Men,
The Pretty Things,
Cymande,
Neu!,
H. Thieme,
Excepter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Move,
Albert Ayler,
Stereo Dub,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Pus,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.