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 Mozambique and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Heaven 17,
The Count Five,
Moby Grape,
Pagans,
Lindisfarne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Albert Ayler,
John Holt,
Hasil Adkins,
The Buckinghams,
Nico,
Bauhaus,
Kenny Larkin,
One Last Wish,
Fear,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hoover,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Can,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Talk Talk,
Audionom,
Slick Rick,
Michelle Simonal,
Ken Boothe,
Howard Jones,
The Five Americans,
David Axelrod,
Scott Walker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Colin Newman,
Eli Mardock,
Make Up,
Reuben Wilson,
Joe Smooth,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
KRS-One,
The Divine Comedy,
Supertramp,
Underground Resistance,
Roger Hodgson,
The Electric Prunes,
Sex Pistols,
Pole,
Brass Construction,
Average White Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Ice-T,
Chris Corsano,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dead C,
Anthony Braxton,
Darondo,
The Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
Gang Starr,
Quantec,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.