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 Congo and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 48th St. Collective to the techno 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sound Behaviour,
Dave Gahan,
Thompson Twins,
James White and The Blacks,
Kayak,
the Swans,
The Fugs,
Rufus Thomas,
Wasted Youth,
Pierre Henry,
The Busters,
Piero Umiliani,
B.T. Express,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alison Limerick,
The Names,
LL Cool J,
The Red Krayola,
The Neon Judgement,
Supertramp,
Sixth Finger,
Royal Trux,
The Moleskins,
Easy Going,
Section 25,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Lynne,
Pylon,
Pulsallama,
Fugazi,
Faust,
Gregory Isaacs,
Graham Central Station,
The Index,
Avey Tare,
John Cale,
Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
Sex Pistols,
Ken Boothe,
The Birthday Party,
Sun City Girls,
Deadbeat,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dirtbombs,
Anthony Braxton,
The Smiths,
Joe Smooth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
Bad Manners,
Nik Kershaw,
Altered Images,
David Bowie,
Donald Byrd,
Mr. Review,
Simply Red,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.