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 Costa Rica and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Deakin to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Glambeats Corp.,
Public Enemy,
Ultravox,
Fela Kuti,
The Trojans,
Charles Mingus,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ice-T,
the Slits,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Techniques,
Boredoms,
Banda Bassotti,
Drive Like Jehu,
UT,
Hasil Adkins,
Con Funk Shun,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deadbeat,
Marmalade,
John Lydon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warsaw,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalann,
Skaos,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aaron Thompson,
Qualms,
Roger Hodgson,
Soulsonic Force,
Guru Guru,
Godley & Creme,
Bad Manners,
Thompson Twins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Section 25,
Michelle Simonal,
Zero Boys,
The Skatalites,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Piero Umiliani,
Anakelly,
Mark Hollis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lower 48,
Judy Mowatt,
Visage,
Lucky Dragons,
Kerri Chandler,
Wasted Youth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Audionom,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scrapy,
Oblivians,
Alice Coltrane,
Marvin Gaye,
The United States of America,
Susan Cadogan,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.