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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Harpers Bizarre to the grime 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Glenn Branca,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ten City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Henry Cow,
Hardrive,
June of 44,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tom Boy,
Can,
Mr. Review,
L. Decosne,
Boz Scaggs,
Marmalade,
The Pop Group,
Dark Day,
Jacob Miller,
Pharoah Sanders,
PIL,
Graham Central Station,
Television Personalities,
the Slits,
Stetsasonic,
Newcleus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Stereo Dub,
The Seeds,
Slave,
Lungfish,
Index,
Fear,
Scratch Acid,
Jimmy McGriff,
Smog,
Au Pairs,
New Order,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Residents,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Last Poets,
ABBA,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Procol Harum,
Schoolly D,
The Angels of Light,
The Raincoats,
Japan,
Bobby Byrd,
Cabaret Voltaire,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.