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 Kenya and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crooked Eye to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Danielle Patucci,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Steve Hackett,
Crime,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Patti Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Trojans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amon Düül,
The Blues Magoos,
the Sonics,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roxy Music,
The Move,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Five Americans,
Yusef Lateef,
Joe Smooth,
Alison Limerick,
Second Layer,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Outsiders,
Jacques Brel,
Hot Snakes,
Deadbeat,
The Barracudas,
The Searchers,
Smog,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Neon Judgement,
Freddie Wadling,
48th St. Collective,
Nas,
UT,
kango's stein massive,
Peter and Kerry,
The Doors,
The Motions,
Trumans Water,
Erasure,
the Swans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shoche,
The Birthday Party,
Nik Kershaw,
Y Pants,
The Saints,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sam Rivers,
Bluetip,
Rosa Yemen,
Bronski Beat,
Donny Hathaway,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.