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 Madagascar and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the rap 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Roxette,
Anthony Braxton,
The Moody Blues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New Age Steppers,
Black Sheep,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gladiators,
DNA,
Spandau Ballet,
Schoolly D,
New Order,
DJ Style,
the Sonics,
Franke,
Pylon,
The Fire Engines,
Cecil Taylor,
The Monochrome Set,
the Fania All-Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Durutti Column,
Minny Pops,
The Velvet Underground,
Brass Construction,
The Tremeloes,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Smoke,
Shuggie Otis,
Roxy Music,
Carl Craig,
The Young Rascals,
Malaria!,
Black Flag,
Blake Baxter,
Quadrant,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
U.S. Maple,
Oneida,
Dave Gahan,
Yaz,
Mad Mike,
Grey Daturas,
Symarip,
Echospace,
Moss Icon,
Lakeside,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nico,
the Association,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pulsallama,
Throbbing Gristle,
Massinfluence,
New York Dolls,
Bush Tetras,
Ultravox,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.