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 Ethiopia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Holger Czukay 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 Fluxion to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
The Fall,
Minnie Riperton,
Duran Duran,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
These Immortal Souls,
The Standells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Goldenarms,
The Skatalites,
The Busters,
The Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Godley & Creme,
Cymande,
Underground Resistance,
Audionom,
John Foxx,
World's Most,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crooked Eye,
The Mojo Men,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
China Crisis,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter and Kerry,
Hardrive,
Ronnie Foster,
Technova,
R.M.O.,
Fela Kuti,
ABC,
Sam Rivers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Supertramp,
Laurel Aitken,
The Kinks,
Intrusion,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barbara Tucker,
Mars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Starr,
Shoche,
The Evens,
Eden Ahbez,
Prince Buster,
Susan Cadogan,
Dead Boys,
Oblivians,
Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Magazine,
John Holt,
Half Japanese,
Little Man,
The American Breed,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.