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 Singapore and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Theoretical Girls to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
The Saints,
D'Angelo,
Josef K,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skriet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terry Callier,
Fluxion,
David McCallum,
Television,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Lydon,
Agitation Free,
H. Thieme,
Brothers Johnson,
Rosa Yemen,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Motorama,
Camberwell Now,
Pussy Galore,
The Tremeloes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Flash Fearless,
Derrick Morgan,
Sun City Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Mo-Dettes,
Lucky Dragons,
The Smiths,
Kas Product,
Scrapy,
Sarah Menescal,
X-101,
Gang Starr,
Chrome,
The Searchers,
Roxette,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dorothy Ashby,
Minutemen,
Black Pus,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soft Machine,
Jeff Mills,
Liliput,
KRS-One,
Aural Exciters,
Bang On A Can,
Eddi Front,
Neu!,
The Slackers,
Los Fastidios,
Black Moon,
The Knickerbockers,
Wire,
Deakin,
Amon Düül,
Bluetip,
The Durutti Column,
F. McDonald,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.