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 Kiribati and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bauhaus to the rap 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Camouflage,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dave Gahan,
DJ Style,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Vogues,
Throbbing Gristle,
Man Parrish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grauzone,
Swans,
Peter and Kerry,
Blake Baxter,
Ultravox,
Piero Umiliani,
The Music Machine,
The Dave Clark Five,
Los Fastidios,
Fluxion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Womack,
Leonard Cohen,
David Axelrod,
Severed Heads,
The Cure,
Brand Nubian,
Crime,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Tremeloes,
Desert Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sun Ra,
Qualms,
Henry Cow,
Panda Bear,
Eric Copeland,
Byron Stingily,
Half Japanese,
Alice Coltrane,
Pantaleimon,
The Leaves,
Maleditus Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
EPMD,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sandy B,
Derrick Morgan,
The Pop Group,
Erykah Badu,
Todd Rundgren,
DJ Sneak,
Reuben Wilson,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monks,
Public Enemy,
Wings,
Mantronix,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.