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 Moldova and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Buzzcocks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Davy DMX,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boz Scaggs,
The Wake,
Outsiders,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Charles Mingus,
Wings,
Bluetip,
Rites of Spring,
Scratch Acid,
F. McDonald,
Neu!,
PIL,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeru the Damaja,
David Axelrod,
Cheater Slicks,
Erasure,
L. Decosne,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Liliput,
Black Sheep,
New York Dolls,
Eurythmics,
June of 44,
Ronnie Foster,
Rod Modell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mission of Burma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Soft Machine,
David McCallum,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Malaria!,
Rosa Yemen,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Basic Channel,
Scott Walker,
Cameo,
Visage,
Warsaw,
Matthew Bourne,
The Busters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nik Kershaw,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Womack,
Cybotron,
Carl Craig,
Letta Mbulu,
Moebius,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.