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 China and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Zero Boys to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
The Mummies,
Siglo XX,
Pussy Galore,
D'Angelo,
Arcadia,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Radio Birdman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
48th St. Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
Iggy Pop,
Interpol,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camouflage,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Vladislav Delay,
Eric Dolphy,
Section 25,
Grauzone,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camberwell Now,
Buzzcocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Q65,
Marmalade,
Juan Atkins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crash Course in Science,
Kurtis Blow,
Alphaville,
The Leaves,
The Last Poets,
Liliput,
The Evens,
Ronnie Foster,
Groovy Waters,
The Neon Judgement,
the Normal,
Johnny Clarke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Todd Terry,
Unrelated Segments,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Association,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Parrish,
Roxy Music,
Scan 7,
The Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lungfish,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.