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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Siglo XX to the disco 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Make Up,
Gang Gang Dance,
Con Funk Shun,
Kurtis Blow,
Roger Hodgson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marmalade,
Don Cherry,
The Mojo Men,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radio Birdman,
Groovy Waters,
La Düsseldorf,
The Five Americans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
cv313,
Main Source,
The Toasters,
The Angels of Light,
Thee Headcoats,
Lower 48,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Duran Duran,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aswad,
Vladislav Delay,
Au Pairs,
Eddi Front,
Grauzone,
Cecil Taylor,
Ponytail,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Sneak,
World's Most,
Archie Shepp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Q and Not U,
The Index,
Q65,
The Mummies,
Sparks,
Robert Görl,
Stiv Bators,
This Heat,
Fela Kuti,
Jacob Miller,
MDC,
Faraquet,
The Cowsills,
Connie Case,
Blancmange,
Dual Sessions,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sam Rivers,
Glenn Branca,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.