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 Morocco and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The United States of America to the rap 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Dennis Brown,
Mr. Review,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Associates,
Qualms,
Nico,
The Pop Group,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mark Hollis,
Bob Dylan,
Graham Central Station,
Cameo,
MDC,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sonic Youth,
LL Cool J,
Electric Prunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Hood,
Marcia Griffiths,
Infiniti,
The Saints,
E-Dancer,
Don Cherry,
the Swans,
The Motions,
Erykah Badu,
kango's stein massive,
Tim Buckley,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The New Christs,
The Cramps,
The Count Five,
Symarip,
Patti Smith,
Pussy Galore,
Pere Ubu,
David Bowie,
In Retrospect,
Quantec,
The Young Rascals,
Pet Shop Boys,
Malaria!,
Yusef Lateef,
Mo-Dettes,
Skaos,
Slick Rick,
Chrome,
Sarah Menescal,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxy Music,
Y Pants,
Deepchord,
Scott Walker,
Subhumans,
Rakim,
Moebius,
Gang Gang Dance,
Al Stewart,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.