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 Antigua and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Zapp,
Dennis Brown,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fortunes,
Kas Product,
Lee Hazlewood,
Von Mondo,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Byrd,
The Grass Roots,
The Dead C,
The Durutti Column,
Iggy Pop,
Pulsallama,
A Certain Ratio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alphaville,
Youth Brigade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Deepchord,
Visage,
Chris Corsano,
Jesper Dahlback,
Buzzcocks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minnie Riperton,
Curtis Mayfield,
Massinfluence,
Ludus,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
The Walker Brothers,
The Last Poets,
Bill Wells,
Dawn Penn,
The Human League,
June Days,
Fat Boys,
Amon Düül,
the Slits,
The Blues Magoos,
Spandau Ballet,
Faraquet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang of Four,
Yellowson,
Minny Pops,
Al Stewart,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Black Dice,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Y Pants,
Nas,
Pussy Galore,
Duran Duran,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.