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 Romania and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Surgeon to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Reuben Wilson,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy Collins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brick,
Fear,
Schoolly D,
Simply Red,
Dark Day,
Fela Kuti,
The Victims,
48th St. Collective,
Bang On A Can,
Yaz,
The Dirtbombs,
The Dead C,
Can,
Soul II Soul,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Inner City,
Mars,
Black Flag,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ludus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Youth Brigade,
Motorama,
Bush Tetras,
Rod Modell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Banda Bassotti,
Lee Hazlewood,
Carl Craig,
Tom Boy,
Outsiders,
Audionom,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Moebius,
Qualms,
Donald Byrd,
Vladislav Delay,
DNA,
Anthony Braxton,
Delta 5,
Nick Fraelich,
Cecil Taylor,
Cymande,
Deakin,
Bauhaus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Wyatt,
Moby Grape,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Adolescents,
Charles Mingus,
Blake Baxter,
Cluster,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.