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 Comoros and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Dirtbombs 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Kinks,
Cal Tjader,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun Ra,
Nils Olav,
The United States of America,
Bronski Beat,
Toni Rubio,
This Heat,
The Birthday Party,
John Holt,
Easy Going,
Godley & Creme,
Scratch Acid,
Tomorrow,
Carl Craig,
Flamin' Groovies,
Echospace,
Colin Newman,
Tim Buckley,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fat Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Can,
Accadde A,
The Seeds,
The Cowsills,
The Smiths,
Terrestrial Tones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Faust,
The Golliwogs,
Patti Smith,
ABC,
Desert Stars,
Joy Division,
Marmalade,
Connie Case,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ossler,
James White and The Blacks,
The Techniques,
Pantaleimon,
Slick Rick,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang Green,
The Zeros,
The Dave Clark Five,
Model 500,
Magma,
Deepchord,
Zapp,
Suburban Knight,
Bill Near,
Don Cherry,
Arcadia,
Soft Machine,
OOIOO,
Moby Grape,
The Associates,
Ultra Naté,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.