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 Russia and from Johannesburg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Y Pants to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
T. Rex,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Buckinghams,
Susan Cadogan,
Excepter,
The Velvet Underground,
A Certain Ratio,
New York Dolls,
Inner City,
Young Marble Giants,
Stetsasonic,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fear,
Warren Ellis,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
Faraquet,
Godley & Creme,
Quadrant,
Tom Boy,
Brand Nubian,
The Divine Comedy,
Jacques Brel,
Crooked Eye,
Public Enemy,
Deadbeat,
The Real Kids,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scion,
Q and Not U,
Boredoms,
Severed Heads,
Minor Threat,
The Zeros,
Iggy Pop,
The Barracudas,
Pere Ubu,
D'Angelo,
Lalann,
Crispian St. Peters,
World's Most,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Zero Boys,
Brass Construction,
The Neon Judgement,
Youth Brigade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Bar-Kays,
Radiohead,
Drexciya,
The Doors,
Aloha Tigers,
Q65,
Bad Manners,
Erykah Badu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.