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 Congo and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare 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 The Standells to the disco 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Robert Hood,
Rod Modell,
Royal Trux,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arcadia,
John Coltrane,
Al Stewart,
Franke,
The Red Krayola,
kango's stein massive,
EPMD,
Talk Talk,
Gabor Szabo,
Von Mondo,
Rufus Thomas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eric Dolphy,
Henry Cow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Birthday Party,
Rakim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Iggy Pop,
Albert Ayler,
Scratch Acid,
Funky Four + One,
The American Breed,
Bush Tetras,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
Bootsy Collins,
Sam Rivers,
The Count Five,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Procol Harum,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nirvana,
Amon Düül II,
The Fortunes,
Shuggie Otis,
Alphaville,
Eli Mardock,
Kayak,
Simply Red,
Pierre Henry,
Grey Daturas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
FM Einheit,
Maurizio,
Suicide,
Visage,
Dark Day,
David Bowie,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Moebius,
Ituana,
Brick,
John Holt,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.