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 Benin and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Searchers to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Procol Harum,
Tears for Fears,
Animal Collective,
Danielle Patucci,
New Age Steppers,
The Associates,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arthur Verocai,
The Flesh Eaters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joe Smooth,
Deadbeat,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Scott Walker,
Ultra Naté,
Wings,
The Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Electric Prunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jeff Mills,
Mary Jane Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang Starr,
Minutemen,
The Index,
Interpol,
Anthony Braxton,
James White and The Blacks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Funkadelic,
Y Pants,
The Beau Brummels,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
Radiohead,
Bluetip,
The American Breed,
Cameo,
Sixth Finger,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Mojo Men,
Pere Ubu,
Mo-Dettes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Skatalites,
The New Christs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
DJ Sneak,
Jawbox,
Scientists,
Aswad,
Slick Rick,
Kas Product,
Duran Duran,
The Toasters,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.