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 Georgia 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scrapy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
X-102,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slits,
Howard Jones,
Cluster,
Cameo,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mr. Review,
Nik Kershaw,
Joey Negro,
Agitation Free,
Sparks,
Banda Bassotti,
The Motions,
Bobby Womack,
Duran Duran,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barbara Tucker,
Faust,
L. Decosne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
R.M.O.,
The Trojans,
Tres Demented,
D'Angelo,
Eric Dolphy,
Warren Ellis,
Laurel Aitken,
Sister Nancy,
Camouflage,
Mandrill,
Drive Like Jehu,
Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronan,
Jandek,
8 Eyed Spy,
Index,
Oneida,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jawbox,
Malaria!,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Flag,
Dennis Brown,
The Slackers,
Procol Harum,
ABBA,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gichy Dan,
The Golliwogs,
Absolute Body Control,
Thee Headcoats,
Curtis Mayfield,
Michelle Simonal,
Anthony Braxton,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.