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 Senegal and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mr. Review to the punk 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eddi Front,
The Red Krayola,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Velvet Underground,
the Slits,
Hardrive,
Swell Maps,
Chris & Cosey,
H. Thieme,
CMW,
A Certain Ratio,
Tom Boy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Golliwogs,
Mr. Review,
Circle Jerks,
Angry Samoans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nation of Ulysses,
Visage,
Traffic Nightmare,
Au Pairs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wolf Eyes,
Anthony Braxton,
Kaleidoscope,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neu!,
Ponytail,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arcadia,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Mojo Men,
Davy DMX,
Monolake,
Saccharine Trust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pharoah Sanders,
Iggy Pop,
Reuben Wilson,
Danielle Patucci,
Howard Jones,
The Count Five,
Nirvana,
Camberwell Now,
Aaron Thompson,
Black Moon,
Heaven 17,
Excepter,
David Bowie,
Stockholm Monsters,
La Düsseldorf,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kas Product,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.