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 Benin and from Mexico City.
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 Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Heaven 17 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Unwound,
The Trojans,
Tubeway Army,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Surgeon,
The Offenders,
Motorama,
Donald Byrd,
Scan 7,
Sonny Sharrock,
Derrick May,
Khruangbin,
Flipper,
Peter and Kerry,
Brick,
The Music Machine,
Chris Corsano,
Don Cherry,
Bush Tetras,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Glenn Branca,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kayak,
Metal Thangz,
Skarface,
Steve Hackett,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hot Snakes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tommy Roe,
The Index,
Gang Starr,
Buzzcocks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yusef Lateef,
Television,
Rapeman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Tremeloes,
Swell Maps,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minutemen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agent Orange,
Faraquet,
DJ Sneak,
Joe Finger,
Dark Day,
Andrew Hill,
The Count Five,
Cluster,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Wake,
The Fortunes,
the Soft Cell,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fuzztones,
Isaac Hayes,
Pulsallama,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.