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 Malta and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bizarre Inc. to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The Beau Brummels,
Danielle Patucci,
This Heat,
Terrestrial Tones,
Camouflage,
Soft Cell,
Q and Not U,
Symarip,
Joe Smooth,
Swans,
Metal Thangz,
The Buckinghams,
Scan 7,
Surgeon,
Zapp,
Royal Trux,
Donny Hathaway,
The Stooges,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lyres,
Crime,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dead Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vladislav Delay,
Brick,
Tommy Roe,
The Smoke,
Fugazi,
Sonic Youth,
Minor Threat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Parry Music,
Byron Stingily,
Pagans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June Days,
The Real Kids,
Subhumans,
The Sonics,
Dual Sessions,
Morten Harket,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Womack,
Jacques Brel,
L. Decosne,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Golliwogs,
Patti Smith,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sandy B,
Second Layer,
Funkadelic,
The Gladiators,
Pierre Henry,
Kerri Chandler,
The J.B.'s,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.