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 Austria and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Shuggie Otis to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Patti Smith,
Make Up,
The Moleskins,
Lou Christie,
Albert Ayler,
Cheater Slicks,
Gabor Szabo,
Roger Hodgson,
Ralphi Rosario,
U.S. Maple,
Average White Band,
Tres Demented,
The Cramps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Holt,
Juan Atkins,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agent Orange,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yellowson,
Camouflage,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cure,
Blake Baxter,
Saccharine Trust,
Big Daddy Kane,
JFA,
Rapeman,
Television,
The Alarm Clocks,
Quando Quango,
Barry Ungar,
Derrick May,
Sight & Sound,
John Foxx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shuggie Otis,
Y Pants,
Black Bananas,
Groovy Waters,
The Stooges,
Nick Fraelich,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boogie Down Productions,
PIL,
the Human League,
Supertramp,
Yaz,
The Zeros,
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
UT,
Al Stewart,
K-Klass,
The Detroit Cobras,
The American Breed,
Soft Cell,
Tim Buckley,
The Raincoats,
Marvin Gaye,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.