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 Kenya and from Lagos.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terrestrial Tones to the rap 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Amon Düül,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deakin,
Mandrill,
Porter Ricks,
Suburban Knight,
Kenny Larkin,
kango's stein massive,
The Black Dice,
New York Dolls,
Circle Jerks,
Cal Tjader,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
K-Klass,
Arab on Radar,
The Buckinghams,
Isaac Hayes,
Model 500,
Echospace,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marc Almond,
Essential Logic,
Ten City,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hoover,
The Seeds,
Matthew Bourne,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Moleskins,
Pylon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
48th St. Collective,
Slave,
the Swans,
Stiv Bators,
the Sonics,
China Crisis,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
Marine Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Vogues,
cv313,
Ultra Naté,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Unrelated Segments,
PIL,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Zapp,
Electric Prunes,
Motorama,
The Zeros,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.