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 Colombia and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Crooked Eye to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pole,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric Copeland,
Lungfish,
the Bar-Kays,
Joe Finger,
Fat Boys,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Görl,
The Smoke,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
MDC,
Eddi Front,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ten City,
Jeff Lynne,
Ludus,
FM Einheit,
Crooked Eye,
Funky Four + One,
The Monochrome Set,
Patti Smith,
K-Klass,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mummies,
Interpol,
48th St. Collective,
Ohio Players,
Maurizio,
The Dead C,
Stereo Dub,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
Depeche Mode,
Albert Ayler,
Crime,
Jerry's Kids,
Steve Hackett,
Cymande,
These Immortal Souls,
Country Teasers,
Brothers Johnson,
X-102,
Silicon Teens,
Chris Corsano,
Brass Construction,
Sparks,
Ituana,
The Remains,
John Cale,
EPMD,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Knickerbockers,
Rufus Thomas,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Invisible,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.