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 Uzbekistan and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rekid to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pantaleimon,
Brothers Johnson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pagans,
Magazine,
The Cure,
The Litter,
The Neon Judgement,
Derrick Morgan,
Susan Cadogan,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Judy Mowatt,
DJ Sneak,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sam Rivers,
The Saints,
Minnie Riperton,
Lyres,
A Certain Ratio,
Minor Threat,
the Germs,
The Star Department,
Pierre Henry,
John Lydon,
In Retrospect,
Livin' Joy,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Womack,
Todd Terry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soft Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mr. Review,
Deakin,
Stereo Dub,
Altered Images,
X-Ray Spex,
Mo-Dettes,
Tim Buckley,
The Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter and Kerry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crooked Eye,
Kas Product,
Deadbeat,
Scratch Acid,
June Days,
Cecil Taylor,
Tubeway Army,
Barry Ungar,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Moon,
The Selecter,
Neu!,
Iggy Pop,
Arab on Radar,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.