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 Tonga and from Taipei.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the theremin 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 Sam Rivers to the dance 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Ponytail,
Agent Orange,
Monolake,
Soft Machine,
Hashim,
Q65,
The Blues Magoos,
Donny Hathaway,
Goldenarms,
The Modern Lovers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eve St. Jones,
Wally Richardson,
Oblivians,
Bobby Sherman,
Camouflage,
Fat Boys,
Altered Images,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fugs,
MC5,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric B and Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
The Wake,
Au Pairs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bill Wells,
Mission of Burma,
H. Thieme,
Rekid,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eli Mardock,
Ludus,
Ice-T,
Arab on Radar,
Boredoms,
Bang On A Can,
Saccharine Trust,
Laurel Aitken,
Faust,
Aural Exciters,
Y Pants,
Amon Düül,
The Five Americans,
Rites of Spring,
Man Parrish,
The Zeros,
These Immortal Souls,
The Divine Comedy,
Eurythmics,
The Gladiators,
Donald Byrd,
Ronan,
Ken Boothe,
Lalann,
Erykah Badu,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.