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 Papua New Guinea and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Morten Harket to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Lakeside,
Mars,
Marmalade,
Jacques Brel,
Neu!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barbara Tucker,
Colin Newman,
Altered Images,
Jandek,
Smog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television Personalities,
Cameo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ohio Players,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gabor Szabo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bad Manners,
Chris & Cosey,
Crime,
Bob Dylan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gun Club,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lightning Bolt,
Lee Hazlewood,
Can,
Qualms,
June Days,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MDC,
Accadde A,
The Fall,
Mr. Review,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soft Machine,
Groovy Waters,
Matthew Halsall,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rotary Connection,
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Moon,
Connie Case,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Starr,
Technova,
World's Most,
Ludus,
Pussy Galore,
Nas,
Pere Ubu,
The Kinks,
OOIOO,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.