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 Dominica and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bronski Beat to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Bronski Beat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pantytec,
Todd Terry,
Hoover,
Rapeman,
Drexciya,
X-102,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-Ray Spex,
Monks,
Godley & Creme,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zero Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Christie,
The Tremeloes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Animal Collective,
Derrick May,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Standells,
Organ,
Gong,
Cybotron,
Erykah Badu,
The Toasters,
Agent Orange,
Blossom Toes,
Porter Ricks,
Mo-Dettes,
Donald Byrd,
Radiopuhelimet,
Quantec,
The Misunderstood,
Soulsonic Force,
Wolf Eyes,
Alton Ellis,
Peter & Gordon,
Wire,
LL Cool J,
The Dead C,
Severed Heads,
Talk Talk,
John Cale,
Faraquet,
Flipper,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Alice Coltrane,
The Raincoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sound Behaviour,
the Human League,
Bluetip,
Monolake,
H. Thieme,
Roger Hodgson,
Quando Quango,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.