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 Zimbabwe and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Nik Kershaw to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Finger,
Marcia Griffiths,
Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Suicide,
the Normal,
48th St. Collective,
Excepter,
Fat Boys,
The Mummies,
Lakeside,
Joey Negro,
Suburban Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Accadde A,
Black Sheep,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DNA,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nils Olav,
T.S.O.L.,
R.M.O.,
Cecil Taylor,
Make Up,
Brass Construction,
Cluster,
Bootsy Collins,
Wally Richardson,
Youth Brigade,
Animal Collective,
The Stooges,
Davy DMX,
Y Pants,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Oblivians,
Fad Gadget,
AZ,
The Birthday Party,
La Düsseldorf,
Amon Düül,
The Barracudas,
Gabor Szabo,
Los Fastidios,
Half Japanese,
Ultra Naté,
The Pop Group,
Lungfish,
Nik Kershaw,
Gong,
Reagan Youth,
The Zeros,
Whodini,
Rapeman,
Slave,
Crooked Eye,
Franke,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.