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 Paraguay and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 sitar 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Vainqueur,
Harpers Bizarre,
Max Romeo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang Starr,
The Count Five,
Wasted Youth,
PIL,
Eden Ahbez,
Black Pus,
Faraquet,
John Holt,
Jeff Mills,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mr. Review,
The Remains,
The Grass Roots,
Television Personalities,
Supertramp,
Joey Negro,
Quando Quango,
Moby Grape,
Fugazi,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Byron Stingily,
Glenn Branca,
the Germs,
David Axelrod,
June Days,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unrelated Segments,
T. Rex,
Con Funk Shun,
Michelle Simonal,
New York Dolls,
Sex Pistols,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Robert Wyatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jandek,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quantec,
Q and Not U,
Pantytec,
Electric Prunes,
Letta Mbulu,
10cc,
Bob Dylan,
Depeche Mode,
Public Image Ltd.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Raincoats,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Juan Atkins,
Archie Shepp,
In Retrospect,
kango's stein massive,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.