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 Senegal and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Donald Fagen 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Scion,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Accadde A,
the Normal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joensuu 1685,
June Days,
The American Breed,
Erykah Badu,
The Real Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
X-102,
the Germs,
UT,
The Monks,
The Black Dice,
Agent Orange,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Evens,
Stetsasonic,
Neu!,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Moon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eve St. Jones,
Khruangbin,
L. Decosne,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fortunes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Parry Music,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Holt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Faraquet,
Jeff Lynne,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pantytec,
The Trojans,
The Blues Magoos,
Darondo,
Warren Ellis,
Magazine,
Suicide,
Leonard Cohen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
T. Rex,
Pierre Henry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dawn Penn,
The Count Five,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
Aloha Tigers,
Motorama,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.