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 Chad and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 sitar 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 Amazonics to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Fad Gadget,
Yusef Lateef,
Al Stewart,
Kaleidoscope,
The Wake,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wasted Youth,
The Five Americans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gong,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quantec,
Newcleus,
Gang Green,
The Sonics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tears for Fears,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Clear Light,
Electric Prunes,
Drexciya,
Liliput,
Yellowson,
Technova,
Bob Dylan,
Thompson Twins,
The Evens,
Section 25,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Faust,
a-ha,
Amazonics,
The Black Dice,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric Dolphy,
Deakin,
Porter Ricks,
Loose Ends,
Q and Not U,
Sexual Harrassment,
Suicide,
The Names,
Saccharine Trust,
Joey Negro,
The Barracudas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Banda Bassotti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Delon & Dalcan,
Blancmange,
Brand Nubian,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Germs,
Cymande,
Bootsy Collins,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.