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 Chad and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Angry Samoans,
Severed Heads,
Crime,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barry Ungar,
Charles Mingus,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Blackbyrds,
Rekid,
Barrington Levy,
Cal Tjader,
The Smiths,
Dead Boys,
Technova,
Sugar Minott,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-101,
cv313,
Sonic Youth,
Steve Hackett,
ABBA,
Funkadelic,
Iggy Pop,
Flamin' Groovies,
PIL,
June of 44,
Gabor Szabo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Y Pants,
Barclay James Harvest,
Leonard Cohen,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott Heron,
Derrick May,
James White and The Blacks,
Lucky Dragons,
the Soft Cell,
Joy Division,
K-Klass,
Magma,
Sam Rivers,
Davy DMX,
Juan Atkins,
Neu!,
The Selecter,
Desert Stars,
Terry Callier,
Donny Hathaway,
The Grass Roots,
Brass Construction,
Scott Walker,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flash Fearless,
The Golliwogs,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roxy Music,
Morten Harket,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faraquet,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.