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 Zimbabwe and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Chris & Cosey to the funk 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Steve Hackett,
Pere Ubu,
Scrapy,
Camouflage,
Fad Gadget,
K-Klass,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
La Düsseldorf,
Spandau Ballet,
The Motions,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Desert Stars,
Yaz,
the Germs,
Pantaleimon,
Easy Going,
Amon Düül,
Sight & Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Tres Demented,
DJ Sneak,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fluxion,
Television,
Bauhaus,
The Moleskins,
U.S. Maple,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lucky Dragons,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skarface,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sam Rivers,
These Immortal Souls,
Eddi Front,
Can,
The Red Krayola,
Mary Jane Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Tom Boy,
Agent Orange,
The Electric Prunes,
Sex Pistols,
Monks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barrington Levy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Silicon Teens,
Cluster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terry Callier,
Massinfluence,
Black Flag,
Pussy Galore,
Tropical Tobacco,
Franke,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.