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 Tanzania 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the crunk 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Reuben Wilson,
ABC,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joensuu 1685,
Crispy Ambulance,
Swans,
Harry Pussy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Traffic Nightmare,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Zapp,
Faust,
The Detroit Cobras,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed,
Soft Machine,
Youth Brigade,
Country Teasers,
Hardrive,
Sällskapet,
Jacob Miller,
Harmonia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Junior Murvin,
Derrick May,
Joe Finger,
Be Bop Deluxe,
DJ Sneak,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Almond,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scion,
Symarip,
Mr. Review,
John Lydon,
Ronan,
Radio Birdman,
Sandy B,
June Days,
Carl Craig,
Gang of Four,
Schoolly D,
Can,
New York Dolls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Heaven 17,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
FM Einheit,
Ituana,
The Stooges,
Kerri Chandler,
Cluster,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scan 7,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Busters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
Faraquet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.