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 Papua New Guinea and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sandy B to the crunk 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Agent Orange,
Todd Rundgren,
Sällskapet,
The Moleskins,
The Motions,
Radio Birdman,
Neil Young,
Donald Byrd,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Angels of Light,
T.S.O.L.,
The Searchers,
Dave Gahan,
Magma,
Harmonia,
a-ha,
Joe Smooth,
Cameo,
The Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Whodini,
La Düsseldorf,
Brothers Johnson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Motorama,
Pantytec,
Black Pus,
Bauhaus,
Gang of Four,
Hardrive,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Icehouse,
Unrelated Segments,
Bang On A Can,
Yellowson,
Liliput,
The Selecter,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Wyatt,
New York Dolls,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Cale,
Skriet,
Mantronix,
The Mummies,
The Electric Prunes,
AZ,
Television,
The Monks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
World's Most,
Interpol,
The Moody Blues,
Marshall Jefferson,
Main Source,
The Mighty Diamonds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Christie,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Young Rascals,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.