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 Dominican Republic and from Jakarta.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the güiro 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 Black Flag to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Kayak,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
Slave,
June Days,
Charles Mingus,
Chris Corsano,
Erasure,
Rod Modell,
The Litter,
Flipper,
Gerry Rafferty,
Neil Young,
Lou Reed,
Boredoms,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Slits,
Bill Near,
Fat Boys,
Gong,
Michelle Simonal,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Byrd,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
LL Cool J,
Morten Harket,
T.S.O.L.,
Amazonics,
Dark Day,
Stereo Dub,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Interpol,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mummies,
Boogie Down Productions,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultravox,
the Germs,
Wally Richardson,
The Electric Prunes,
Maleditus Sound,
Peter & Gordon,
JFA,
Davy DMX,
David Axelrod,
The Doors,
Little Man,
Fad Gadget,
Gang Green,
Joey Negro,
Cal Tjader,
The Sonics,
Steve Hackett,
10cc,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Severed Heads,
Radiohead,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.