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 Angola and from Stockholm.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Alison Limerick to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Babytalk,
The Black Dice,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The J.B.'s,
Tom Boy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Slick Rick,
Drive Like Jehu,
Steve Hackett,
Minny Pops,
ABC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ronnie Foster,
The Wake,
the Swans,
The Associates,
The Seeds,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Wyatt,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eli Mardock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grey Daturas,
June Days,
Don Cherry,
Aloha Tigers,
Bad Manners,
The Angels of Light,
Leonard Cohen,
Schoolly D,
Electric Prunes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Swans,
Cybotron,
Albert Ayler,
the Bar-Kays,
The Doors,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris Corsano,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Sonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Scan 7,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Surgeon,
Althea and Donna,
The Index,
Desert Stars,
Ossler,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crime,
the Soft Cell,
Oblivians,
Roy Ayers,
Fad Gadget,
Circle Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Stooges,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.