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 Bangladesh and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 The Count Five to the grime 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Index,
Young Marble Giants,
Das Ding,
The Golliwogs,
Fat Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Desert Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
New Age Steppers,
Sun Ra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Bananas,
Outsiders,
JFA,
Pierre Henry,
Tubeway Army,
Talk Talk,
Mad Mike,
Howard Jones,
John Lydon,
Lalann,
Blossom Toes,
Skaos,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joy Division,
Ten City,
A Certain Ratio,
Fugazi,
The Toasters,
ABC,
The Slackers,
Cecil Taylor,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Cale,
Warsaw,
Brothers Johnson,
Shuggie Otis,
Ituana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Henry Cow,
Arab on Radar,
The United States of America,
David Bowie,
Au Pairs,
Soft Cell,
The Walker Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Accadde A,
Juan Atkins,
Pere Ubu,
Visage,
Grauzone,
World's Most,
AZ,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.