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 Burundi and from Woodstock.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb 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 Boogie Down Productions to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Khruangbin,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Techniques,
The Fuzztones,
The Evens,
Cymande,
Von Mondo,
Todd Terry,
Wasted Youth,
Kerri Chandler,
Jacob Miller,
Marc Almond,
The Saints,
The Beau Brummels,
Simply Red,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Patti Smith,
Niagra,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Raincoats,
Mad Mike,
Angry Samoans,
Scan 7,
Bobby Byrd,
Juan Atkins,
MC5,
John Cale,
John Foxx,
Godley & Creme,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Los Fastidios,
Man Parrish,
The Fortunes,
KRS-One,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wire,
The Shadows of Knight,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Circle Jerks,
Ultravox,
Bluetip,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
Y Pants,
Bob Dylan,
Half Japanese,
Erasure,
the Bar-Kays,
Japan,
Scratch Acid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
kango's stein massive,
The Smoke,
The Fugs,
Tomorrow,
Tears for Fears,
Jerry's Kids,
Dennis Brown,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.