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 Poland and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Whodini to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
John Coltrane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wasted Youth,
Alphaville,
Television,
U.S. Maple,
The Dead C,
Anthony Braxton,
Radiohead,
Fugazi,
Dead Boys,
Nas,
The Victims,
The Angels of Light,
The Mojo Men,
Pussy Galore,
Terry Callier,
Scratch Acid,
Marshall Jefferson,
Robert Görl,
ABC,
Subhumans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Unwound,
Ice-T,
a-ha,
D'Angelo,
Inner City,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blossom Toes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Half Japanese,
Juan Atkins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tim Buckley,
Guru Guru,
Nils Olav,
Bang On A Can,
48th St. Collective,
Jandek,
Ultravox,
Sällskapet,
The Residents,
X-Ray Spex,
The Grass Roots,
Desert Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sister Nancy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dual Sessions,
John Cale,
Trumans Water,
X-102,
Rotary Connection,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.