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 Paraguay and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wire to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Jerry's Kids,
X-101,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fad Gadget,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pantytec,
The Names,
Cybotron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Seeds,
Pere Ubu,
Moebius,
Outsiders,
The Martian,
John Lydon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mo-Dettes,
JFA,
OOIOO,
Bill Near,
David McCallum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
Yaz,
Clear Light,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grauzone,
Drexciya,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Green,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Birthday Party,
Basic Channel,
The Pop Group,
Matthew Bourne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gong,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eli Mardock,
Kenny Larkin,
Jeff Lynne,
Monks,
The Busters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Buzzcocks,
Ten City,
Depeche Mode,
Sandy B,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Gang Dance,
Procol Harum,
Tim Buckley,
Spoonie Gee,
Grey Daturas,
Soul II Soul,
The Gories,
Tears for Fears,
Porter Ricks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.