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 Malawi and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe 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 Sonny Sharrock to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Fat Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tomorrow,
The Monochrome Set,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
The Angels of Light,
Pere Ubu,
Japan,
The Selecter,
New York Dolls,
Junior Murvin,
Lucky Dragons,
Idris Muhammad,
Talk Talk,
Dennis Brown,
PIL,
The Alarm Clocks,
Morten Harket,
Subhumans,
Aural Exciters,
MDC,
Anakelly,
Soul II Soul,
Patti Smith,
a-ha,
Funky Four + One,
The New Christs,
The Evens,
Public Enemy,
The Pretty Things,
The Saints,
Cameo,
Average White Band,
Sight & Sound,
The Sonics,
Henry Cow,
Parry Music,
Swans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mummies,
The Toasters,
Sandy B,
Pantaleimon,
The Black Dice,
Jacques Brel,
T.S.O.L.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Swans,
Roxy Music,
Buzzcocks,
Hoover,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wally Richardson,
Niagra,
The Smiths,
Oblivians,
These Immortal Souls,
Rufus Thomas,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.