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 Taipei.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Deadbeat,
Clear Light,
Radio Birdman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
a-ha,
The Gladiators,
Television Personalities,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Camberwell Now,
Bauhaus,
Connie Case,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skarface,
Howard Jones,
Camouflage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Archie Shepp,
Glambeats Corp.,
China Crisis,
X-102,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultra Naté,
Smog,
Barrington Levy,
Con Funk Shun,
In Retrospect,
The Mojo Men,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sight & Sound,
Ten City,
Panda Bear,
Groovy Waters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wally Richardson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Idris Muhammad,
Lindisfarne,
The United States of America,
The New Christs,
Monolake,
Glenn Branca,
Kerri Chandler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joe Smooth,
David Bowie,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marvin Gaye,
Joey Negro,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Black Pus,
Spoonie Gee,
Peter and Kerry,
Scan 7,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minny Pops,
The Happenings,
Joe Finger,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.