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 New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Groovy Waters to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Piero Umiliani,
The J.B.'s,
The Invisible,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Sheep,
Magma,
Ponytail,
Drexciya,
Scion,
Sun City Girls,
The Fugs,
Jerry's Kids,
Skriet,
Funky Four + One,
Sexual Harrassment,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mark Hollis,
Unwound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rod Modell,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Mojo Men,
Cluster,
Cymande,
New Age Steppers,
The Fire Engines,
The Music Machine,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Green,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Christie,
La Düsseldorf,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arcadia,
Minor Threat,
Minnie Riperton,
Wally Richardson,
AZ,
Gong,
Pere Ubu,
Nas,
Japan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ice-T,
Make Up,
John Coltrane,
John Cale,
The Red Krayola,
The Victims,
Eve St. Jones,
Derrick May,
Sun Ra,
Lucky Dragons,
Fad Gadget,
The Litter,
Brass Construction,
the Swans,
The Monochrome Set,
L. Decosne,
Brick,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.