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 Belgium and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
The Litter,
Eric B and Rakim,
James White and The Blacks,
Das Ding,
Depeche Mode,
Sarah Menescal,
Minny Pops,
Isaac Hayes,
Barbara Tucker,
Arab on Radar,
Model 500,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiopuhelimet,
Electric Prunes,
The Smoke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marmalade,
Gang Gang Dance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Bananas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Au Pairs,
Black Pus,
Ken Boothe,
The Leaves,
Patti Smith,
PIL,
The Blues Magoos,
Junior Murvin,
Suburban Knight,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Henry Cow,
Nick Fraelich,
the Bar-Kays,
Panda Bear,
Vladislav Delay,
Clear Light,
FM Einheit,
Gang of Four,
Zapp,
Spandau Ballet,
The Wake,
The Pretty Things,
48th St. Collective,
Janne Schatter,
Brick,
The Red Krayola,
The Gories,
The Fire Engines,
Ten City,
The Standells,
Duran Duran,
Chris Corsano,
Rotary Connection,
Unrelated Segments,
Lower 48,
Skaos,
Lee Hazlewood,
Anthony Braxton,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.