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 Philippines and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Outsiders to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Boredoms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fire Engines,
Ludus,
Banda Bassotti,
Roxette,
Angry Samoans,
Make Up,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Wyatt,
Technova,
John Lydon,
Chris & Cosey,
Sarah Menescal,
Ohio Players,
Amon Düül II,
Jesper Dahlback,
F. McDonald,
ABBA,
Nas,
Moebius,
Ultra Naté,
The Neon Judgement,
Talk Talk,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Yellowson,
JFA,
Qualms,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amazonics,
The Zeros,
Nirvana,
The Durutti Column,
Whodini,
Hot Snakes,
Ronan,
Barrington Levy,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Parrish,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Real Kids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
DJ Style,
Joensuu 1685,
John Foxx,
Stiv Bators,
Pere Ubu,
Cybotron,
Tommy Roe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sugar Minott,
Los Fastidios,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Agitation Free,
Swell Maps,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.