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 San Marino 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the crunk 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Aaron Thompson,
Toni Rubio,
Marc Almond,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fear,
Sun Ra,
Steve Hackett,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New York Dolls,
Tom Boy,
The Count Five,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Graham Central Station,
Reuben Wilson,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The J.B.'s,
Eddi Front,
Bill Wells,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ice-T,
Tomorrow,
Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
The Smoke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rufus Thomas,
JFA,
Ossler,
Kurtis Blow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Public Enemy,
Brass Construction,
Moebius,
PIL,
The Mummies,
Yazoo,
Dawn Penn,
The Happenings,
The Human League,
Neil Young,
Stetsasonic,
FM Einheit,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
China Crisis,
MDC,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alice Coltrane,
Youth Brigade,
The Black Dice,
Wolf Eyes,
Ponytail,
Bobby Womack,
Absolute Body Control,
Nik Kershaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Stooges,
The Beau Brummels,
Suicide,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.