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 Andorra and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin 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 Von Mondo to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Patti Smith,
Underground Resistance,
The Gladiators,
Dennis Brown,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joey Negro,
Bauhaus,
FM Einheit,
Eric Copeland,
X-102,
Eddi Front,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Trumans Water,
The Cramps,
The Toasters,
The Durutti Column,
Deadbeat,
Niagra,
Unrelated Segments,
Electric Prunes,
Andrew Hill,
Sarah Menescal,
Essential Logic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sonic Youth,
Althea and Donna,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Cale,
Dead Boys,
Drexciya,
Jeff Lynne,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang Starr,
The Kinks,
Lower 48,
Suicide,
Howard Jones,
Rod Modell,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
Brothers Johnson,
The Zeros,
Qualms,
Adolescents,
John Lydon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Porter Ricks,
Tim Buckley,
Depeche Mode,
MDC,
Ronan,
Lou Christie,
the Human League,
Roger Hodgson,
Nik Kershaw,
Youth Brigade,
Popol Vuh,
Clear Light,
The Neon Judgement,
Harmonia,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.