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 Malaysia and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Drive Like Jehu to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction 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?
8 Eyed Spy,
The Names,
Roger Hodgson,
The Searchers,
The Walker Brothers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pussy Galore,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Metal Thangz,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Q and Not U,
Black Bananas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Donald Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
Altered Images,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
Amon Düül II,
Fluxion,
Whodini,
The J.B.'s,
Jeff Lynne,
June of 44,
Fifty Foot Hose,
FM Einheit,
Ornette Coleman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fatback Band,
Moss Icon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Subhumans,
Tears for Fears,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Magma,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cheater Slicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camberwell Now,
Jandek,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thee Headcoats,
JFA,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gang Starr,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amon Düül,
Robert Hood,
Outsiders,
Crooked Eye,
Darondo,
Pylon,
Monolake,
Chrome,
The Neon Judgement,
John Cale,
The Dave Clark Five,
Max Romeo,
Clear Light,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.