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 Iceland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 jazz 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Index,
A Certain Ratio,
Monolake,
Ultimate Spinach,
B.T. Express,
Infiniti,
the Slits,
Electric Prunes,
Rosa Yemen,
Agent Orange,
Todd Terry,
Mr. Review,
Silicon Teens,
MDC,
Second Layer,
Peter & Gordon,
Pet Shop Boys,
H. Thieme,
Connie Case,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tom Boy,
The Kinks,
Stetsasonic,
Black Sheep,
Jerry's Kids,
The Raincoats,
The Shadows of Knight,
Erykah Badu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kayak,
Joyce Sims,
Juan Atkins,
The Sonics,
LL Cool J,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lee Hazlewood,
DNA,
Cameo,
The Mummies,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Spoonie Gee,
Mark Hollis,
Black Bananas,
Scion,
Gil Scott Heron,
Faust,
Jacob Miller,
The Happenings,
The Selecter,
The Cowsills,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
48th St. Collective,
Rites of Spring,
Sarah Menescal,
Urselle,
Brothers Johnson,
The Techniques,
Bang On A Can,
Pagans,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.