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 Tajikistan 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Animal Collective,
Don Cherry,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Almond,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Porter Ricks,
Archie Shepp,
Pagans,
Dead Boys,
In Retrospect,
The Star Department,
Ornette Coleman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Panda Bear,
The Standells,
Chrome,
Glenn Branca,
Cal Tjader,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Five Americans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Martian,
Nation of Ulysses,
FM Einheit,
Nik Kershaw,
R.M.O.,
The Fuzztones,
kango's stein massive,
The United States of America,
Livin' Joy,
Dual Sessions,
The Golliwogs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fela Kuti,
X-102,
Y Pants,
Rapeman,
Donald Byrd,
Godley & Creme,
Sun Ra,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dead C,
The Vogues,
The Real Kids,
Joe Smooth,
Quando Quango,
Amazonics,
Yaz,
Scratch Acid,
The Detroit Cobras,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Loose Ends,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Motions,
The Saints,
These Immortal Souls,
U.S. Maple,
Moebius,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.