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 Mongolia and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Bang On A Can 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Sex Pistols,
Electric Prunes,
Derrick Morgan,
Lakeside,
Harry Pussy,
Scan 7,
The New Christs,
Dark Day,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joyce Sims,
Dawn Penn,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cluster,
Maurizio,
Sandy B,
Robert Görl,
Donny Hathaway,
Grey Daturas,
cv313,
Marine Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
The Walker Brothers,
Tubeway Army,
Theoretical Girls,
Faraquet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Charles Mingus,
Q and Not U,
Royal Trux,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ituana,
Pylon,
The Sonics,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moebius,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Cecil Taylor,
Arcadia,
The Toasters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Todd Rundgren,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Sherman,
Rekid,
Hashim,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Hood,
The Offenders,
The Litter,
Donald Byrd,
Eric Copeland,
The Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Howard Jones,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.