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 Congo and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bush Tetras to the disco 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
The Evens,
The Red Krayola,
The Motions,
Bush Tetras,
The Stooges,
Ronan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yaz,
Sällskapet,
Black Pus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Television,
Pole,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mandrill,
Gabor Szabo,
The Raincoats,
The Human League,
Piero Umiliani,
X-Ray Spex,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Faust,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Christie,
Pierre Henry,
Loose Ends,
Model 500,
LL Cool J,
The Associates,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Althea and Donna,
Half Japanese,
Slave,
Kaleidoscope,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
Crime,
The Doobie Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
The Cramps,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Adolescents,
New Age Steppers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chris & Cosey,
Scientists,
The Fire Engines,
Matthew Halsall,
Sandy B,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jacob Miller,
Rites of Spring,
Aswad,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.