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 Djibouti and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Average White Band to the electroclash 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Angry Samoans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Groovy Waters,
The Last Poets,
The Standells,
Bluetip,
E-Dancer,
Fat Boys,
The American Breed,
Sexual Harrassment,
Con Funk Shun,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Danielle Patucci,
Sällskapet,
Jawbox,
Maleditus Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Sam Rivers,
John Lydon,
Organ,
Amon Düül,
The Dirtbombs,
Radiohead,
Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
Lebanon Hanover,
Funkadelic,
F. McDonald,
Fatback Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barry Ungar,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Little Man,
Ralphi Rosario,
Blossom Toes,
Porter Ricks,
Agent Orange,
The Residents,
Nick Fraelich,
Popol Vuh,
Excepter,
Ultra Naté,
David Bowie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The J.B.'s,
Swell Maps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ponytail,
The Seeds,
Johnny Clarke,
Unwound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Barrington Levy,
Warsaw,
Make Up,
Cybotron,
Yellowson,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.