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 Madagascar and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the rock 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
The Five Americans,
Howard Jones,
Skaos,
Audionom,
Shoche,
James Chance & The Contortions,
MC5,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Warsaw,
Rod Modell,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Todd Terry,
Lou Reed,
Suburban Knight,
Can,
Grey Daturas,
Altered Images,
The Kinks,
Chris & Cosey,
Archie Shepp,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Görl,
Lindisfarne,
Johnny Osbourne,
Buzzcocks,
Wally Richardson,
Eve St. Jones,
The Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Neon Judgement,
Aaron Thompson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lakeside,
These Immortal Souls,
Yazoo,
Sugar Minott,
PIL,
Big Daddy Kane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Zeros,
The Moleskins,
Joyce Sims,
Fad Gadget,
Amon Düül II,
The Leaves,
Wire,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sister Nancy,
Chrome,
Lungfish,
Stereo Dub,
The Offenders,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bronski Beat,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gabor Szabo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.