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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare 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 Drexciya to the grunge 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Procol Harum,
Todd Rundgren,
Carl Craig,
John Foxx,
DNA,
Gabor Szabo,
Interpol,
Ultimate Spinach,
Matthew Bourne,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mummies,
Smog,
Suburban Knight,
Toni Rubio,
The Walker Brothers,
Lower 48,
Country Teasers,
New Order,
The Slackers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vladislav Delay,
Slave,
The J.B.'s,
The Gap Band,
Nico,
Reuben Wilson,
Joe Smooth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Swans,
Basic Channel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Barrington Levy,
Agitation Free,
The Blues Magoos,
Suicide,
KRS-One,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minutemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cluster,
Chrome,
Spandau Ballet,
the Normal,
The Durutti Column,
The Gun Club,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Skaos,
Minny Pops,
Skriet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pagans,
Sex Pistols,
Blossom Toes,
Spoonie Gee,
48th St. Collective,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.