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 Mongolia 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sixth Finger to the disco 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Zapp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-Ray Spex,
Joensuu 1685,
Freddie Wadling,
Reagan Youth,
Second Layer,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deadbeat,
The Knickerbockers,
The Standells,
Laurel Aitken,
Siglo XX,
The Victims,
Sam Rivers,
Monks,
The Real Kids,
Harmonia,
Ossler,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Silicon Teens,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wasted Youth,
H. Thieme,
Negative Approach,
Schoolly D,
Alton Ellis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gichy Dan,
The Barracudas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hoover,
Shoche,
Hardrive,
Agent Orange,
Nick Fraelich,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Association,
Henry Cow,
Whodini,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
John Lydon,
The Kinks,
The J.B.'s,
Spoonie Gee,
Blake Baxter,
Bronski Beat,
Motorama,
Nils Olav,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Judy Mowatt,
Soulsonic Force,
Lalann,
DJ Style,
Shuggie Otis,
The Pretty Things,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tomorrow,
Index,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.