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 Brazil and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ohio Players to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Rites of Spring,
The Cure,
The Doors,
Eric Copeland,
The Grass Roots,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sight & Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Gabor Szabo,
Cymande,
The Last Poets,
Reagan Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Kool Moe Dee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Skaos,
L. Decosne,
The Modern Lovers,
the Swans,
X-101,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magma,
Qualms,
The Litter,
Reuben Wilson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
Nirvana,
Joe Finger,
Guru Guru,
Television Personalities,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blossom Toes,
The Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
In Retrospect,
Warsaw,
Harry Pussy,
The Skatalites,
Parry Music,
Duran Duran,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers,
Blake Baxter,
New Age Steppers,
Suburban Knight,
Slave,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Gang Dance,
One Last Wish,
Fear,
the Association,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neil Young,
Interpol,
Gil Scott Heron,
Echospace,
The Misunderstood,
Porter Ricks,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.