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 Tunisia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 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 Rites of Spring to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Masters at Work,
Laurel Aitken,
New York Dolls,
Flash Fearless,
Bush Tetras,
Sex Pistols,
Oneida,
the Association,
Heaven 17,
Intrusion,
Bill Wells,
Kool Moe Dee,
Inner City,
The Red Krayola,
Funky Four + One,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sarah Menescal,
Popol Vuh,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dual Sessions,
Dark Day,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Vogues,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unrelated Segments,
U.S. Maple,
The Divine Comedy,
The Move,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Shoche,
Siglo XX,
Glenn Branca,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Dolphy,
Bluetip,
Fad Gadget,
Skaos,
Newcleus,
R.M.O.,
Connie Case,
Curtis Mayfield,
One Last Wish,
Eric Copeland,
Howard Jones,
Fugazi,
the Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
Max Romeo,
Johnny Clarke,
The Selecter,
The Barracudas,
Anthony Braxton,
Amon Düül,
Wire,
Juan Atkins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Warren Ellis,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.