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 Guatemala and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 David Bowie 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 grime 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Invisible,
Patti Smith,
The Misunderstood,
The Smoke,
The Skatalites,
Blancmange,
Accadde A,
Sällskapet,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cure,
Scrapy,
D'Angelo,
Duran Duran,
The Monochrome Set,
The Saints,
Slick Rick,
Surgeon,
Bootsy Collins,
Shuggie Otis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Martian,
Jawbox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
China Crisis,
The Fall,
The Slackers,
Electric Prunes,
Spandau Ballet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter & Gordon,
Eurythmics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Au Pairs,
Steve Hackett,
Smog,
Derrick Morgan,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Remains,
These Immortal Souls,
Sonic Youth,
Thompson Twins,
Mr. Review,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scion,
Swans,
Section 25,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Drexciya,
Spoonie Gee,
The New Christs,
Byron Stingily,
Wings,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minny Pops,
Quando Quango,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.