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 the UAE and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Mumbai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Arab on Radar to the crunk 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Harmonia,
Ronnie Foster,
Radio Birdman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Donald Byrd,
Cheater Slicks,
Outsiders,
Panda Bear,
Black Flag,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Angels of Light,
Stockholm Monsters,
X-101,
the Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Amon Düül II,
Silicon Teens,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter & Gordon,
Althea and Donna,
Janne Schatter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Groovy Waters,
Donny Hathaway,
These Immortal Souls,
Thee Headcoats,
Hashim,
Judy Mowatt,
Idris Muhammad,
Das Ding,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Moleskins,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fire Engines,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jeff Mills,
Terrestrial Tones,
Girls At Our Best!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sight & Sound,
Subhumans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sarah Menescal,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Monks,
Magma,
Radiohead,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Index,
Suburban Knight,
Eve St. Jones,
The Golliwogs,
Hardrive,
the Soft Cell,
Goldenarms,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.