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 Turkmenistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 David Bowie 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the punk 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
It's A Beautiful Day,
F. McDonald,
Basic Channel,
Judy Mowatt,
New Age Steppers,
Davy DMX,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Chris & Cosey,
Pierre Henry,
Public Image Ltd.,
Piero Umiliani,
Ornette Coleman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Severed Heads,
The Motions,
The Vogues,
Black Pus,
Mars,
The Seeds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Goldenarms,
Negative Approach,
Outsiders,
Von Mondo,
Angry Samoans,
Eric Dolphy,
Eddi Front,
Panda Bear,
Marvin Gaye,
Nils Olav,
Amon Düül II,
Wally Richardson,
The Beau Brummels,
Harmonia,
Arthur Verocai,
Neil Young,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Remains,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Litter,
Sister Nancy,
Average White Band,
The Monks,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobbi Humphrey,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The United States of America,
Franke,
Mo-Dettes,
Ludus,
John Cale,
Man Eating Sloth,
Malaria!,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hardrive,
Eric Copeland,
The Gun Club,
Boogie Down Productions,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.