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 Sierra Leone and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Five Americans to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
Zapp,
The Sound,
Mandrill,
Marine Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Rhythm & Sound,
Zero Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Victims,
Tubeway Army,
New York Dolls,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nico,
Chris Corsano,
The Durutti Column,
Negative Approach,
Talk Talk,
Colin Newman,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lyres,
Khruangbin,
Rekid,
Pharoah Sanders,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Womack,
The Evens,
The Cure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bush Tetras,
Eddi Front,
Mr. Review,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Standells,
The Real Kids,
Royal Trux,
New Order,
Robert Hood,
David Bowie,
Charles Mingus,
Warsaw,
EPMD,
Brand Nubian,
Howard Jones,
Man Parrish,
Prince Buster,
CMW,
Sparks,
Girls At Our Best!,
B.T. Express,
Camouflage,
The J.B.'s,
Anthony Braxton,
Ohio Players,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.