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 Estonia and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Beau Brummels 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Outsiders,
Susan Cadogan,
Cymande,
Wally Richardson,
Intrusion,
The Names,
Peter and Kerry,
Cluster,
F. McDonald,
The Sound,
Josef K,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Blackbyrds,
The Music Machine,
Alison Limerick,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Normal,
Interpol,
Pantytec,
Hoover,
The Dirtbombs,
Grauzone,
Peter & Gordon,
Jandek,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ossler,
Eden Ahbez,
Ronan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quadrant,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Busters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lalo Schifrin,
Todd Terry,
Donald Byrd,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Khruangbin,
Unrelated Segments,
The Tremeloes,
Marc Almond,
The Walker Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
B.T. Express,
Skarface,
Q and Not U,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tropical Tobacco,
Throbbing Gristle,
Swell Maps,
Technova,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sister Nancy,
Scratch Acid,
Model 500,
Neil Young,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.