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 Liberia and from Milan.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Selecter to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Vladislav Delay,
Mars,
Rosa Yemen,
Minor Threat,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hoover,
Franke,
Boredoms,
Buzzcocks,
Scientists,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Durutti Column,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rufus Thomas,
The Skatalites,
Peter and Kerry,
Malaria!,
Sonic Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Chrome,
Main Source,
Oblivians,
The Searchers,
Country Teasers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Banda Bassotti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
These Immortal Souls,
Rakim,
Eric Copeland,
Prince Buster,
Visage,
Sun Ra,
The Slackers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Holt,
Faraquet,
The Evens,
Royal Trux,
The Blues Magoos,
Tommy Roe,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Zero Boys,
Mantronix,
Laurel Aitken,
The Misunderstood,
Pantytec,
the Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
The Remains,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cecil Taylor,
Minny Pops,
Shuggie Otis,
Steve Hackett,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.