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 Mozambique and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro 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 Juan Atkins 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Suicide,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sparks,
Whodini,
Camberwell Now,
Funky Four + One,
Smog,
Neu!,
The Standells,
John Foxx,
Oneida,
Echospace,
Public Enemy,
Nas,
Babytalk,
Black Sheep,
Don Cherry,
The Names,
Moby Grape,
Pet Shop Boys,
David Bowie,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sonic Youth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Warsaw,
Minny Pops,
Chris Corsano,
Mandrill,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bauhaus,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Womack,
Make Up,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Dolphy,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Sherman,
The Remains,
Alison Limerick,
The Moody Blues,
Kaleidoscope,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Invisible,
Piero Umiliani,
Mad Mike,
Terrestrial Tones,
Leonard Cohen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Motorama,
Heaven 17,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pagans,
John Coltrane,
Eden Ahbez,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.