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 Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb 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 Ultravox to the disco 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Sheep,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nirvana,
Guru Guru,
The Blues Magoos,
Excepter,
Public Enemy,
Das Ding,
Tears for Fears,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
Donald Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fatback Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Babytalk,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fortunes,
New Age Steppers,
Marvin Gaye,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sonics,
Joey Negro,
Drexciya,
T. Rex,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Whodini,
Lakeside,
Slave,
Blancmange,
Mantronix,
The Monochrome Set,
Quantec,
Gichy Dan,
The Kinks,
Pantytec,
Faraquet,
Isaac Hayes,
Terry Callier,
Lalann,
Pulsallama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fugazi,
Bobby Womack,
Parry Music,
Bill Wells,
Vainqueur,
The Residents,
Neu!,
Trumans Water,
Kerri Chandler,
Brand Nubian,
Erasure,
The Barracudas,
The Remains,
Funkadelic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.