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 Iraq and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Lebanon Hanover to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Fear,
Mars,
Livin' Joy,
Marcia Griffiths,
L. Decosne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Sheep,
Kool Moe Dee,
Donny Hathaway,
Oblivians,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boz Scaggs,
Eric B and Rakim,
T. Rex,
the Slits,
Arcadia,
The Misunderstood,
Bauhaus,
The Real Kids,
The Stooges,
Ultravox,
X-Ray Spex,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Whodini,
Rakim,
Pagans,
cv313,
The Count Five,
The Durutti Column,
DNA,
Pere Ubu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Pretty Things,
Thee Headcoats,
Delta 5,
Radiohead,
June Days,
Khruangbin,
Q and Not U,
David Bowie,
Scratch Acid,
Procol Harum,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Subhumans,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blues Magoos,
The Move,
One Last Wish,
Arab on Radar,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sound,
Wasted Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rufus Thomas,
The Invisible,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ornette Coleman,
Isaac Hayes,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.