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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Blackbyrds to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Grass Roots,
The Buckinghams,
Donny Hathaway,
Sugar Minott,
Saccharine Trust,
Davy DMX,
Alison Limerick,
Youth Brigade,
The Remains,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Josef K,
The Offenders,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Sonics,
New Age Steppers,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Godley & Creme,
Adolescents,
Tres Demented,
Scratch Acid,
Brothers Johnson,
Visage,
Ohio Players,
Au Pairs,
The Five Americans,
Con Funk Shun,
the Human League,
UT,
Mantronix,
X-102,
Outsiders,
Anthony Braxton,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joensuu 1685,
The Selecter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Masters at Work,
The Skatalites,
Crooked Eye,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Letta Mbulu,
Amazonics,
La Düsseldorf,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aural Exciters,
The Star Department,
Danielle Patucci,
Monolake,
In Retrospect,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nik Kershaw,
The Seeds,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Martian,
June of 44,
Max Romeo,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.