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 South Sudan and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 David Bowie 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 Blossom Toes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ossler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dead Boys,
the Germs,
The Black Dice,
Robert Wyatt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Blues Magoos,
The New Christs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Neil Young,
Pussy Galore,
Pole,
The Saints,
Grauzone,
Sex Pistols,
Althea and Donna,
Average White Band,
The Sound,
Deadbeat,
Lindisfarne,
Fatback Band,
Isaac Hayes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dawn Penn,
Cluster,
Faraquet,
Al Stewart,
Don Cherry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marmalade,
Connie Case,
Aural Exciters,
June Days,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mark Hollis,
Essential Logic,
Joy Division,
The Busters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Litter,
Hoover,
U.S. Maple,
DJ Style,
The Leaves,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deepchord,
Zapp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Five Americans,
The Golliwogs,
The Smiths,
Flash Fearless,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.