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 Seychelles and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Tropical Tobacco to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Judy Mowatt,
Negative Approach,
The Fortunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Sonics,
Prince Buster,
Bang On A Can,
Icehouse,
Gastr Del Sol,
Malaria!,
The J.B.'s,
Anakelly,
Make Up,
Visage,
Faust,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ituana,
Bobby Byrd,
The Seeds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cal Tjader,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soulsonic Force,
Kurtis Blow,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare,
OOIOO,
Stereo Dub,
Index,
Panda Bear,
X-102,
Das Ding,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fire Engines,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Christie,
Brothers Johnson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lightning Bolt,
Khruangbin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Donny Hathaway,
Pierre Henry,
The Toasters,
Scrapy,
Minutemen,
Robert Wyatt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
In Retrospect,
The American Breed,
Pulsallama,
Basic Channel,
Pagans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Ponytail,
Funkadelic,
The Move,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.