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 Bolivia and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Gastr Del Sol to the jazz 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Slits,
Wire,
The Techniques,
Skaos,
Urselle,
Lungfish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Piero Umiliani,
Matthew Bourne,
Duran Duran,
Judy Mowatt,
Dead Boys,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Amon Düül II,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thee Headcoats,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Victims,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed,
Mandrill,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Al Stewart,
David Bowie,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Warsaw,
Robert Görl,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Last Poets,
Faraquet,
Crash Course in Science,
Absolute Body Control,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lyres,
R.M.O.,
Babytalk,
Essential Logic,
Roxy Music,
Boredoms,
Cluster,
A Certain Ratio,
Cameo,
Howard Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mark Hollis,
Franke,
The Moody Blues,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scrapy,
The Index,
UT,
Icehouse,
Ten City,
One Last Wish,
The Toasters,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.