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 Oman 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 R.M.O. to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Bluetip,
Desert Stars,
Terry Callier,
Junior Murvin,
Marmalade,
The Remains,
Piero Umiliani,
Symarip,
Ten City,
John Foxx,
Camouflage,
Ronnie Foster,
B.T. Express,
Angry Samoans,
Youth Brigade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Slackers,
Can,
These Immortal Souls,
Kaleidoscope,
DNA,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dawn Penn,
Q and Not U,
Glenn Branca,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jawbox,
Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bronski Beat,
Tim Buckley,
David Bowie,
Eric Dolphy,
Outsiders,
Accadde A,
Buzzcocks,
One Last Wish,
Rakim,
Throbbing Gristle,
DJ Sneak,
Second Layer,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Whodini,
Jerry's Kids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sarah Menescal,
Man Parrish,
Gabor Szabo,
Ituana,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Niagra,
MDC,
The Walker Brothers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Toasters,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.