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 Hungary and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb 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 The Red Krayola to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Qualms,
Sparks,
Sex Pistols,
the Slits,
Skriet,
Scan 7,
Cybotron,
The Searchers,
The Evens,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lou Reed,
Franke,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Victims,
Blancmange,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Count Five,
Joensuu 1685,
The Busters,
Anakelly,
Kenny Larkin,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Duran Duran,
La Düsseldorf,
Youth Brigade,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Index,
Con Funk Shun,
ABBA,
the Soft Cell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Excepter,
Radio Birdman,
The Tremeloes,
Liliput,
The Leaves,
The Misunderstood,
Soft Cell,
Crime,
E-Dancer,
Das Ding,
Yusef Lateef,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantytec,
Yellowson,
Fear,
The Knickerbockers,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
The Doors,
Mark Hollis,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.