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 Liberia and from Sao Paulo.
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 London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Agent Orange 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sarah Menescal,
Dual Sessions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Toni Rubio,
Derrick Morgan,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
Infiniti,
The Dead C,
DJ Style,
Rosa Yemen,
Rod Modell,
Schoolly D,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aswad,
Fat Boys,
Faraquet,
The Divine Comedy,
John Foxx,
the Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Byron Stingily,
Clear Light,
Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Simply Red,
Danielle Patucci,
Peter and Kerry,
the Normal,
Wolf Eyes,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Association,
Chris Corsano,
Althea and Donna,
Man Eating Sloth,
Davy DMX,
Kas Product,
Malaria!,
T.S.O.L.,
K-Klass,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bang On A Can,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Buckinghams,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Moss Icon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
U.S. Maple,
Pierre Henry,
Fugazi,
Henry Cow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Amazonics,
Cymande,
The Busters,
X-101,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
June of 44,
Bauhaus,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.