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 Kazakhstan and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Talk Talk to the electroclash 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Chrome,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun Ra,
Y Pants,
Popol Vuh,
Camberwell Now,
Slick Rick,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
The Fugs,
Ossler,
Black Sheep,
Tears for Fears,
Quando Quango,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fire Engines,
Anthony Braxton,
Harpers Bizarre,
Model 500,
Banda Bassotti,
June of 44,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Liliput,
Quadrant,
MDC,
Shoche,
The Toasters,
The Moleskins,
Monolake,
Kool Moe Dee,
UT,
Ituana,
Agitation Free,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Stereo Dub,
Thee Headcoats,
Public Enemy,
Bang On A Can,
Archie Shepp,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mr. Review,
This Heat,
Essential Logic,
The Sonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
ABBA,
Television,
Grey Daturas,
Sonic Youth,
Ronan,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
Michelle Simonal,
The Angels of Light,
World's Most,
The Gories,
Hasil Adkins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.