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 Bremen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Second Layer to the techno 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Jerry's Kids,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
Crooked Eye,
World's Most,
Black Flag,
Model 500,
Public Image Ltd.,
10cc,
X-Ray Spex,
KRS-One,
AZ,
Oblivians,
Brick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kayak,
Faraquet,
Siglo XX,
Robert Hood,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Gun Club,
John Holt,
Byron Stingily,
Monolake,
Bauhaus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kerri Chandler,
John Cale,
X-101,
Underground Resistance,
Kenny Larkin,
Derrick May,
Wasted Youth,
Duran Duran,
Tom Boy,
Negative Approach,
Roxette,
Sun City Girls,
Deepchord,
Alice Coltrane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cameo,
Donny Hathaway,
Lightning Bolt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Al Stewart,
Fela Kuti,
Todd Terry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tomorrow,
Gang Green,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Vogues,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Soft Cell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Malaria!,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.