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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
The Barracudas,
Althea and Donna,
Glenn Branca,
Jandek,
Blancmange,
Boz Scaggs,
New Order,
Skriet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Radiohead,
Warsaw,
Albert Ayler,
FM Einheit,
The Electric Prunes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Johnny Clarke,
Sällskapet,
Erasure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Audionom,
Q65,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vladislav Delay,
Bill Near,
The Star Department,
the Soft Cell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Juan Atkins,
Isaac Hayes,
The United States of America,
F. McDonald,
Michelle Simonal,
Alton Ellis,
Severed Heads,
Television Personalities,
The Pop Group,
Funkadelic,
The Doors,
Second Layer,
Rosa Yemen,
Drive Like Jehu,
Technova,
Rakim,
The Cure,
The Tremeloes,
The Toasters,
June of 44,
Harry Pussy,
the Sonics,
The Slackers,
Roxette,
The Real Kids,
Banda Bassotti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Warren Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.