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 Montenegro and from Salvador.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Last Poets to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Crash Course in Science,
The Standells,
Frankie Knuckles,
Moby Grape,
Anakelly,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yusef Lateef,
Josef K,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Görl,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ten City,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Certain Ratio,
June Days,
Country Teasers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Japan,
The Sound,
Whodini,
Section 25,
Ultravox,
Quando Quango,
Agitation Free,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skarface,
Ronan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monks,
John Lydon,
Fear,
Liliput,
Gerry Rafferty,
Flamin' Groovies,
Technova,
The Doors,
Todd Terry,
U.S. Maple,
ABBA,
Rufus Thomas,
Iggy Pop,
Wally Richardson,
Ultra Naté,
Minny Pops,
Kenny Larkin,
Half Japanese,
Swell Maps,
Sixth Finger,
Easy Going,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Piero Umiliani,
Sällskapet,
Cluster,
Eurythmics,
Traffic Nightmare,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Derrick Morgan,
Suburban Knight,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.