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 Angola and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 PIL to the rock 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Ten City,
Terrestrial Tones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Colin Newman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boz Scaggs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smoke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jawbox,
Oneida,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harmonia,
Marine Girls,
Parry Music,
Underground Resistance,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rosa Yemen,
June Days,
The Mojo Men,
Tears for Fears,
FM Einheit,
The Searchers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yazoo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dead C,
Tres Demented,
Kerri Chandler,
The United States of America,
The Fire Engines,
Essential Logic,
Eli Mardock,
Organ,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moby Grape,
Radiohead,
DJ Style,
Hashim,
Alphaville,
New York Dolls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
UT,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dead Boys,
Deepchord,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
Brand Nubian,
Warsaw,
Boogie Down Productions,
Youth Brigade,
Easy Going,
the Association,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.