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 Djibouti and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the jazz 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oneida,
Cameo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gap Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tim Buckley,
Arthur Verocai,
John Foxx,
The Smoke,
Tubeway Army,
Tres Demented,
OOIOO,
Television,
Camouflage,
Junior Murvin,
Boredoms,
Basic Channel,
Sparks,
John Holt,
Aaron Thompson,
Carl Craig,
The Dead C,
Los Fastidios,
June of 44,
Iggy Pop,
Dead Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lucky Dragons,
48th St. Collective,
R.M.O.,
The Saints,
The Trojans,
Animal Collective,
The Moleskins,
The Angels of Light,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Count Five,
Brothers Johnson,
U.S. Maple,
The Wake,
Graham Central Station,
Flamin' Groovies,
Juan Atkins,
Albert Ayler,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Quantec,
Heaven 17,
Kerri Chandler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Todd Rundgren,
Tommy Roe,
The Real Kids,
The Martian,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.