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 Kazakhstan and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 Terrestrial Tones to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Khruangbin,
Bronski Beat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Cameo,
Aaron Thompson,
Cluster,
Skriet,
Scientists,
Don Cherry,
Buzzcocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Byrd,
Kerri Chandler,
Negative Approach,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sugar Minott,
Charles Mingus,
Amon Düül II,
Youth Brigade,
The Motions,
The Durutti Column,
Infiniti,
New York Dolls,
Swell Maps,
Pantaleimon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fear,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Sonics,
MDC,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fall,
La Düsseldorf,
Glenn Branca,
The Alarm Clocks,
Judy Mowatt,
The Vogues,
The Walker Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
Quadrant,
The Birthday Party,
It's A Beautiful Day,
DNA,
Hardrive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Babytalk,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gories,
Sight & Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
The Martian,
The Pretty Things,
Dennis Brown,
Icehouse,
Freddie Wadling,
Crooked Eye,
Johnny Osbourne,
Groovy Waters,
Ludus,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.