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 Guinea and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Dual Sessions,
Wolf Eyes,
Make Up,
Ultimate Spinach,
Glenn Branca,
A Certain Ratio,
Agent Orange,
Charles Mingus,
ABBA,
The Last Poets,
Neu!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eden Ahbez,
Rod Modell,
Loose Ends,
Alice Coltrane,
Dead Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faraquet,
The Seeds,
Davy DMX,
Scientists,
The Sonics,
The Fortunes,
Kaleidoscope,
The Names,
Juan Atkins,
Joyce Sims,
Livin' Joy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Outsiders,
The Moleskins,
Chris Corsano,
New York Dolls,
Model 500,
Letta Mbulu,
Circle Jerks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Max Romeo,
Fluxion,
The Slits,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Normal,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rekid,
Section 25,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
World's Most,
The Gladiators,
The Mummies,
Sight & Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sex Pistols,
Nation of Ulysses,
Camouflage,
X-102,
Hot Snakes,
Warsaw,
Sandy B,
Henry Cow,
The Cure,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.