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 Zimbabwe and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 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 Cluster to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Alison Limerick,
The Trojans,
KRS-One,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Thee Headcoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
Johnny Clarke,
Tropical Tobacco,
Japan,
The Buckinghams,
Infiniti,
Brick,
MC5,
Barry Ungar,
Prince Buster,
The Real Kids,
Warsaw,
Clear Light,
Trumans Water,
Nils Olav,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Animal Collective,
Howard Jones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sun Ra,
Rufus Thomas,
Reagan Youth,
Todd Terry,
Hoover,
Q and Not U,
Charles Mingus,
Steve Hackett,
Throbbing Gristle,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Star Department,
Robert Görl,
Darondo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sarah Menescal,
the Association,
Desert Stars,
Radio Birdman,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Seeds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Popol Vuh,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Motorama,
Second Layer,
Los Fastidios,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bang On A Can,
Lyres,
Black Flag,
Black Sheep,
R.M.O.,
The Move,
Black Moon,
Amazonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.