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 Bolivia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 Glambeats Corp. to the rock 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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare,
Bizarre Inc.,
Public Enemy,
Barbara Tucker,
The Monks,
The Gories,
Albert Ayler,
Warren Ellis,
Procol Harum,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Idris Muhammad,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lakeside,
John Lydon,
Accadde A,
The American Breed,
Spandau Ballet,
The Busters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soul II Soul,
Crooked Eye,
Swell Maps,
Von Mondo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Funky Four + One,
The Gun Club,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arcadia,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Simply Red,
Roy Ayers,
The Happenings,
The Smoke,
Jeff Lynne,
The Five Americans,
the Normal,
The Fire Engines,
Babytalk,
Michelle Simonal,
The Cowsills,
Porter Ricks,
The Tremeloes,
Man Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Vogues,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
B.T. Express,
Absolute Body Control,
The Kinks,
The Buckinghams,
Thee Headcoats,
L. Decosne,
Bob Dylan,
Aaron Thompson,
Graham Central Station,
Rotary Connection,
The Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.