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 Australia and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Absolute Body Control to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Deadbeat,
Hoover,
Eve St. Jones,
Section 25,
Cluster,
The Trojans,
B.T. Express,
The Grass Roots,
Blossom Toes,
D'Angelo,
The Dead C,
The Slits,
The J.B.'s,
Schoolly D,
Funky Four + One,
Spoonie Gee,
Dark Day,
Loose Ends,
The Last Poets,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Kool Moe Dee,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
LL Cool J,
F. McDonald,
Bauhaus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul Sonic Force,
DJ Sneak,
Colin Newman,
Visage,
Wire,
Toni Rubio,
New Age Steppers,
The Gladiators,
Excepter,
Arab on Radar,
Basic Channel,
Rotary Connection,
Shoche,
Drexciya,
Deepchord,
KRS-One,
Piero Umiliani,
Suburban Knight,
Accadde A,
Robert Görl,
Jeff Mills,
Warsaw,
The Martian,
Pussy Galore,
Idris Muhammad,
The Barracudas,
Crime,
The Electric Prunes,
Juan Atkins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Golliwogs,
Scientists,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.