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 Eritrea and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Q65,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Clear Light,
China Crisis,
Stiv Bators,
The Cowsills,
Circle Jerks,
Barry Ungar,
New York Dolls,
The Evens,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Red Krayola,
Sonic Youth,
Tomorrow,
John Cale,
Gang Gang Dance,
Zero Boys,
Rapeman,
Talk Talk,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Derrick May,
Kaleidoscope,
Pantytec,
Aswad,
Monolake,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Gun Club,
Infiniti,
Blake Baxter,
Althea and Donna,
Godley & Creme,
Jawbox,
Bad Manners,
Brand Nubian,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
The Associates,
Aloha Tigers,
Blossom Toes,
Desert Stars,
Funky Four + One,
The Dead C,
Spoonie Gee,
Gabor Szabo,
June Days,
Michelle Simonal,
Brick,
Funkadelic,
Kas Product,
Minutemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Public Enemy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slits,
Model 500,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
Japan,
Ice-T,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.